


A Question of Sentience

by sgcgategirl



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-03-03
Updated: 2005-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-14 20:56:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 37,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3425321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sgcgategirl/pseuds/sgcgategirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Knowledge and wisdom are not always in the hands of the technologically advanced—as SG-1 discover first-hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Question of Sentience

**Author's Note:**

> Although this is the first in the "Eternity's Path" series, it can be read as a stand-alone story.
> 
> Much thanks goes to Lynette and Hoo this time around. I still haven't figured out how they put up with me and my paranoid chick personality, but I appreciate it whole-heartedly. Also, much thanks much go to Yllek for her patience and her daily support via YIM windows.

"Intelligence in isolation turns to aimless marauding."

—Mason Cooley, US aphorist. City Aphorisms, Fourteenth Selection, New York (1994)

"In my practice I've seen how people have allowed their humanity to drain away. Only it happens slowly instead of all at once. I didn't seem to mind.... All of us, a little bit. We harden our hearts. Grow callous. Only when we have to fight to stay human do we realize how precious it is to us, how dear."

—Dr. Miles Bennel talking to Becky when they are hiding in his office from the "pod people" in the movie, Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1955)

*~*~*

Doctor Daniel Jackson could hear the raised and heated voices as soon as he stepped out of the elevator on Level 27. Angry voices. Harsh tones.

Following the clamor, his booted feet barely made a sound against the gray concrete floor, his forehead furrowed as he strained to distinguish individual words, as he tried to recognize the voices.

One, though, came through loud and clear, and Daniel wasn't surprised.

"I couldn't care less that they're our allies. What exactly have they done for us lately? It's not like they trust us."

Colonel Jack O'Neill, friend and leader of SG-1, the SGC's flagship unit, was never shy about expressing his opinions on various matters. Daniel knew that many others in this command tended to hold their tongue when faced with a superior officer—especially one who was not afraid to inflict appropriate punishment if the actions called for it—but Jack was not one of them. That was ordinarily a good thing about Jack, Daniel mused, because you knew exactly where you stood with the man—even if you didn't particularly want to know. It made for easy relations at times, but not everyone appreciated Jack's outspokenness.

And one thing was perfectly clear, at least to Daniel: Jack was upset and he wasn't about ready to hide it—even if it meant that he was hollering at the top of his voice at his commanding officer, General George Hammond.

"Jack, I understand how you feel, but diplomatically we have no choice in the matter."

The General's reply, although measured, was much louder than usual. And from the sound of it, Daniel knew that he was holding his temper under tight control. Daniel could almost picture the General's face, the jaw held firmly shut, speaking through clenched teeth, his eyes flashing a warning to the man standing before him, a warning that was being ignored.

Rounding another corner, Daniel found himself outside the open door leading to the General's office.

"Diplomatically, my ass."

Daniel held back a laugh.

Coming to a halt, Daniel took in the scene before him—Jack and the General facing off across the large wooden desk. The atmosphere was tense, but there was nothing unusual about that, especially when these two were arguing about one thing or another. Why the General put up with Jack's outspokenness was another story entirely, and something that Daniel had yet to figure out completely.

The archeologist raised his hand to knock on the doorframe, but before he could make a sound, General Hammond caught his eye and waved him into the room. If Daniel caught a brief glimpse of relief in the General's eyes, it was gone as quickly as it came. "Doctor Jackson, please come in. Perhaps you'll be able to help me explain to the Colonel the merits of this mission."

Daniel felt his eyebrows rise in response to the General's comments but stepped into the room. It wasn't too often that he knew about a mission before Jack did, but this was something far from normal.

Two days ago while Jack was taking a few days leave after the last mission, the SGC received a transmission via its deep space transmitter. The Tok'ra were requesting the assistance of SG-1 and wanted to set up a meeting. While this wasn't unusual in any respect, their relationship was still very rocky at best.

After agreeing to meet, the Tok'ra sent their representatives—Jacob Carter and Martouf—two very familiar faces to the SGC. General Hammond, Captain Samantha Carter, Teal'c, and Doctor Jackson were there to welcome them when they arrived.

The news they brought was not encouraging.

Because of the military advance of some of the Goa'uld System Lords, the Tok'ra had found themselves hunting, once again, for new bases of operation, places that could serve as staging points for various covert missions.

Evidently, during the search of one section of the galaxy, a team of Tok'ra scientists had gone missing.

That was nearly two weeks ago, and now they were finally turning to the SGC for help. Apparently, they didn't have enough manpower, and with the war against the Goa'uld, every man, woman, and symbiote was needed on other missions. If the SGC couldn't help, this team was as good as dead.

A little dramatic, but typical for the Tok'ra.

The carrot they were dangling this time around was interesting.

Several of the planets on the Tok'ra's list had apparently been occupied by the Ancients at one time or another. After checking against the SGC's database, some of the coordinates Jacob had provided matched the addresses that had been entered by Colonel O'Neill into the computer mainframe after his download of the Ancient's repository of knowledge.

That simple revelation had put this search and rescue mission much higher on the list of priorities.

That fact, however, was obviously not enough to convince Jack that it was time to pack up and move out.

"Yes, Daniel," Jack said, turning to face the archeologist, his dark eyes hard, his jaw set, his lips a thin line. "Why don't you explain to me this hair-brained excuse for a rescue plan?"

"Don't you see, Jack?" Daniel said, his hands punctuating each point. "It's more than just finding the Tok'ra team—which we should do because it's the right thing to do, not just the diplomatic thing to do. But, that's beside the point. This will give us the opportunity to investigate these planets a little further. We haven't even begun to scratch the surface on the addresses you entered into the computer when you had the Ancient's download. You know, as well as I do, that the cold dialing program has only had limited success in finding viable connections. And now, the Tok'ra are essentially handing us known quantities: working addresses to worlds once inhabited by the Ancients—something we are looking to find to help us in our fight against the Goa'uld. Why are you so set against it?"

The look on Jack's face was just as stubborn as before, but Daniel could see a few cracks beginning to form. A slight muscle twitch here and there, his eyes shifting more than before.

"Something doesn't sound right. The Tok'ra just happen to misplace a team of scientists who happen to be investigating an area of the galaxy they don't know much about and those planets just happen to be some of the old stomping grounds for the Ancients. That's just too many coincidences for me."

"You're just biased because they happen to be implanted with a symbiote—"

"Of course I'm biased," Jack almost shouted back, throwing his hands in the air. "Anyone in their right mind would be biased and reluctant to jump at this chance. After all, they are just snakes!" Jack's brown eyes narrowed, their intensity increasing tenfold, while his voice took on a much darker timbre. "Don't you get it, Daniel? They're only going to call us when they need us for some kind of stupid and dangerous mission. This one qualifies—on both fronts."

Daniel inclined his head slightly, accepting Jack's opinion for what it was. His friend's paranoia and complaints about the Tok'ra were well founded, and they still didn't know them very well. "I agree that we and the Tok'ra have some issues to work out and if it was anyone other than Jacob and Martouf I might be inclined to agree with you, but what if they're right? What if we're the last hope for that team? Would you be able to leave them behind, lost for all intents and purposes, when you have the power to at least try and find them?"

Jack sighed, shifting his gaze away from the younger man, resting it briefly on the General's calm and thoughtful face before turning to look out the window into the darkened briefing room beyond.

Daniel knew that the Tok'ra's general disregard of the life of some of their operatives did not sit right with his friend. And now finally, it seemed as if Jack's motto of "no one gets left behind" had apparently gotten through the thick skulls of some members of the Tok'ra—and that had sent them directly to the SGC and into the arms of one bull-headed Jack O'Neill.

As soon as his friend's shoulders slumped slightly, Daniel knew that he had won. Jack's words, barely loud enough to reach his ears, only confirmed it. "You know, you're getting awfully good at this."

"Jack." The soft sound of Hammond's voice turned the Colonel around. "This is not an order, by any means, but before you decide against this mission, please keep a few things in mind. If I don't send SG-1, I will assign another team in your place. And like Doctor Jackson pointed out, this will be a chance for you to get a first-hand look at some of the worlds you entered into the dialing computer's database. It might give us some more information as to why the Ancients decided to leave and where they've gone."

"All that meaning of life stuff, Jack," Daniel added quietly several beats later as the silence grew between the three men.

Rubbing his hands briskly through his hair, Jack sighed again, the furrow between his eyes deep. When he finally looked up, locking gazes with the archeologist, Jack's eyes were hard and darker than Daniel had seen in a very long time. "I'm going to agree to this mission, but under protest. I assume that Carter and Teal'c agree with you?"

Daniel nodded once, a half-smile on his face.

Jack turned back to the General, a resigned expression crossing his face before the calm veneer reappeared. "You know, you could have warned me about this. Did you even consider calling me in to attend the briefing with the Tok'ra? I have some questions I'd like to ask them myself."

"I didn't want to interrupt your vacation, Jack, and besides," Hammond added, a slight twinkle in his eye, "we needed to return the Tok'ra in the same condition that we found them."

"Oh, for crying out loud."

*~*~*

It wasn't as if Jack didn't like Jacob Carter. He just didn't tend to trust the snake wrapped around the older man's brain stem. A minor detail to some, but one that Jack was not going to ignore.

Settling his gaze on the horizon, his eyes scanned the vista before him. There were trees, millions of them from Jack's standpoint, on the edge of the overlook, several yards from the remnants of the old city—if you wanted to call it that.

Destruction was widespread, the worst of it being along the edge of the city. Near the center, a few blocks radius from a huge monolith—a monument of sorts according to Daniel—most of the buildings still stood tall and proud and Jack could imagine the city as it had been once. As obviously alien as the architectural style was, there was something familiar about it, but Jack couldn't quite put his finger on it.

A shiver ran down his back and he shook it off, moving once again, his footfalls quiet on the undergrowth of the forest.

This was the third planet now that they had the pleasure to investigate. Three days and three planets, with another two on the way as soon as they returned.

The entire story the Tok'ra had provided sounded way too convenient to him. And knowing the Tok'ra there was far more involved here in this little venture than they were letting on.

It's always fun when your allies don't trust you, giving you half-truths and vague explanations instead of facts and figures.

Daniel and Carter were scampering over the ruins, taking various readings and recording nearly everything in sight. There had been no indication that the Tok'ra had passed this way within the past few weeks. No one had been here in centuries—at least that's how it seemed.

Even though the city was serene, Jack still felt uneasy, tense, and paranoid. It was too quiet. Circling around the crumbling remnants of this once proud civilization, he and Teal'c had found only ruins and trees, with not a single blade of grass out of place. Frequent radio checks with the rest of his team only served to increase the twanging of his sixth sense.

Something was not right here.

Reaching up with his left hand, Jack toggled the button on his radio. "Teal'c, you out there buddy?"

The Jaffa's deep voice sounded indistinct and small through the earpiece settled firmly in Jack's ear. "Have you discovered something, O'Neill?"

"Nothing and that's what's bothering me."

"I agree that the silence is unsettling, but I have not encountered anything out of the ordinary," Teal'c continued. "Have Daniel Jackson or Captain Carter unearthed any sign to indicate the whereabouts of the inhabitants of the city?"

"Negative." Jack grimaced, his mind immediately making a decision. "Teal'c, I'm going to head back. Why don't you take another wider loop around the perimeter and then join us. I'm going to see if I can convince Carter and Daniel to hurry along."  


"Understood, O'Neill, although I believe you have chosen the more difficult task for yourself."

Jack chuckled darkly, his feet already finding their way among the roots and foliage lining the path back to the city. "You know me too well, my friend."

*~*~*

Daniel Jackson gently swung the digital camcorder around the room, carefully trying to capture all of the inscriptions lining the walls. He knew that he had a short period of time before Jack came storming in proclaiming that it was time to go home.

It had been the same on all of the planets they'd visited this week. After a very thorough search of the area surrounding the Stargate and the closest city, Jack allowed him and Sam time to study the ruins. Instead of translating the inscriptions as he went, Daniel was trying to make the best use of his time by recording everything, holding back from a close inspection of the artifacts surrounding him. He didn't know if they would ever get the chance to come back here and study them in more detail. He had to get everything he could right now.

This city, so far, had been the best preserved, albeit still in ruins.

And strangely enough, at least to Daniel's eye, there was far more to this city than met the eye. The inscriptions, while plentiful, appeared to be different than the other two planets.

It was something that Daniel couldn't quite put his finger on either.

Making the complete circuit around the room, he shut the camera off and let his arm fall down to his side, his eyes squinting as he studied the last section of the wall.

A loud bang somewhere down the street shifted his attention to the door and the bright sunshine outside.

"Sam," Daniel asked, his left hand pressing the call button on his radio. Her voice replied immediately.

"Everything okay, Daniel?"

"Did you hear that weird sound?"

"Sound?"

"I'll take that as a no, then," he replied as he moved, his feet taking him into the street. "I thought I heard something. I'm going to check it out."

"Daniel, is that such a good idea?"

"Probably not, but I won't be long," he said, squinting slightly as he glanced around the deserted street, the wind picking up and blowing some of the dirt and debris against the nearest wall. "There's not much along this stretch of the city. It's probably just some rock tumbling off of a ledge or something."

Sam's concern and worry came through the speaker of the radio as if she was standing in front of him. "Where are you? I can be there in less than five minutes."

"I'm near the city center, probably about three blocks or so west of that monument where we all met earlier. And you don't have to rush over here. I'm just going to take a quick look next door."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Let me know what you find." Her tone boded no choice but for him to obey.

"Yes, mom," he chided, a smile on his face. "Daniel out."

Slowing down as he approached the next building, he peered in the window, squinting into the darkness beyond.

It didn't look any different than the other ten he'd investigated in this area already. To Daniel's eye, it seemed as if all of these buildings were part of a larger collective, something along the lines of a monastery. The interior of the next building in line was only one large room with inscriptions lining most of the walls. Whatever furniture had adorned the structure was long gone—either stolen or moved to another location, Daniel assumed.

Moving a few steps forward he paused in the doorway, trying to let his eyes adjust to the change in light so he could see everything a little clearer. As he stood there—half inside, half outside—on the cusp of actually stepping through the door, a glimmer caught his eye. Leaning forward, his feet took him deeper into the room, his curiosity piqued.

This was different.

Embedded in the back wall, approximately five feet up from the floor, was a crystal of some type, about the size of his hand, a dull green gleam of light shining from within. There was something about the muted glow that drew Daniel closer. The inscriptions on the stone wall around it were unfamiliar to him, not the bold, block strokes of the Ancient's writing, but something light and ethereal, flowing gracefully from one letter to another.

This did not belong.

*~*~*

Sam Carter glanced up from the device in her hand, her forehead furrowing as she tried to make heads or tails of the readings rushing across the screen.

Part of the problem, she guessed, might have something to do with the amount of naquadah in the soil and in the structures surrounding her. But even so, that did not entirely explain the strange readings.

And they were downright peculiar.

Sam held the scanner out once again, checking for the fourth time, watching the readings crossing its dial as it analyzed the energy signatures around her. Unfortunately, nothing changed.

This tiny piece of technology had never failed her in all the times she had used it, and she had a great respect for its ability to analyze just about anything she needed. She felt the corner of her mouth rise in a slight smile as she thought of the Colonel's names for it. He either insisted on calling it a doohickey—like he did to the majority of her scientific tools—or a tricorder.  You just have to laugh at a man who can give you inappropriate cultural references at the drop of a hat—either that or you just end up annoyed and upset.

Sighing deeply, she glanced away from the screen, her eyes scanning the ruined buildings surrounding her. One out of six buildings remained with its walls and ceiling still intact. It was almost as if the destruction got worse the farther you got from the city center and that monument she'd seen earlier—where Daniel was. For the amount of damage to the city, it was a little surprising that that tall structure had remained standing. The obelisk-like landmark had proved useful since it was easily seen from nearly every part of the city.

Even as she stood there, something in the back of her mind clicked. She'd seen these readings once before, on that planet where they had found the Ancient's repository of knowledge.

"Daniel," she said, keying the toggle on her radio. Waiting a beat, she spoke again. "Daniel, don't touch anything, especially anything on the wall."

Several beats went by, the seconds stretching into minutes, the minutes seeming like hours.

He wasn't answering.

Stowing her equipment in her pack, she slung it on her back, her quickened steps taking her to where she'd last seen Daniel. As she moved, her weapon came up, pointed outward, while her left hand immediately went to her radio, switching channels. "Colonel O'Neill?"

His reply was immediate. "Carter? What's wrong?"

"Daniel's not answering, Sir. He thought he heard something and went to investigate."

Her commanding officer's response was typical. "For crying out loud, when will he learn?" His sigh came across the radio loud and clear. "I'm already in the city. What was Daniel's last known position?"

"He said that he was near the city center, about three blocks west of the big monument. I still have a few blocks to go."

"I'm on it. Only about a block away."

"I'll meet you there."

"I copy you, Carter," he replied, clicking off. He was probably alerting Teal'c, she realized as she started moving faster.

About a minute later, she heard his voice again, this time going out across all the channels they were using. At least that's what she assumed. It was what she would have done in his shoes. "Daniel, this is O'Neill, report." He paused before repeating the command once again.

A few beats went by before he spoke again. "Carter, I'm coming up on the intersection you mentioned."

"Rounding the corner, Sir," she said as her feet turned the corner, half a block from the monument. A dark figure loitered near its base. "I see you, Sir. Coming up on your six."

He turned and waved her forward, his expression grim. His P90 was raised, pointed at the space beyond her and to her right, his hand curled around the weapon's black grip, his finger poised, ready to fire at any provocation.

He waited while she approached, his eyes never still, scanning the streets and buildings surrounding them. By the time she reached his side, he'd turned around twice, surveying the area. She could feel the tension pouring off of him.

"Sir?"

He turned to face her, his lips a thin line. "Yeah?"

"Why were you heading back in? Did you see something?"

"No, Carter, I didn't see anything and that was part of the problem. Something's off. I was coming to tell you both to pack it up."

"Oh." How he managed to have such an acute sixth sense, she never knew. It was that ability, however, that had gotten them out of more scrapes than she wanted to remember.

Shifting his P90 higher, his concerned eyes focused on her face. "Which way?"

She pointed toward one of the nearby cross streets, her right hand gripping her own weapon tightly. "This way, Sir. He was trying to get as much of the inscriptions recorded as possible before we left."

He nodded once, his eyes drifting toward the direction she pointed, focusing on the buildings that lay before them. "Take point."

"Yes, Sir," she replied automatically, raising the muzzle of her gun higher. O'Neill's measured tones from behind her were comforting.

"Teal'c, Carter and I are checking out Daniel's whereabouts. Where are you?"

When she didn't hear the reply immediately, she turned, glancing over her shoulder. Even though the Colonel was searching the ruins around them, she could tell that he was listening to Teal'c's response through the ear bud set deep within his ear. His eyes, although examining everything around him, were slightly unfocused as he concentrated on the Jaffa's voice.

"Fine. Keep me apprised of your location. O'Neill out."

"Sir?" she asked quietly, her voice barely carrying the few feet to her commanding officer.

"He's a good twenty minutes out yet, if not more. He was on a wide perimeter search. Said he'd radio once he got to the city limits."

She nodded, a twinge of fear gripping her belly. A lot could happen in twenty minutes.

*~*~*

It was beautiful.

The glow from the interior of the crystal was mesmerizing.

Without conscious thought, Daniel found himself inches away from the glowing green orb; his eyes fixed intently on the throbbing light.

He'd never seen anything like it before.

A sound that may have been a voice suddenly broke through the buzzing white noise that had taken over his sense of hearing, but it was only brief, and his fogged-out mind discounted it as unimportant.

A small part of his brain was concerned about his inattention to everything else going on around him, but that objection was quickly drowned out by the myriad of voices in his mind.

It was beautiful and he had to touch it.

It was calling to him.

She was calling him home.

*~*~*

He had a bad feeling about this.

The silence of the streets was only marred by the slight shuffle of their feet on the dirt-covered roads.

With his weapon swinging from side to side, its path matching the track his eyes were taking, he stole between the buildings, ever mindful of where he placed his feet, of everything that was around him.

Carter was several steps in front of him, her back tense as she surveyed the area in much the same way that he was.

Why had he allowed everyone to separate? From the moment they'd stepped on the planet, Jack had had a bad feeling about this place. He should have made them stick together. If he'd listened to the little voice in his head, they wouldn't be going through this right now. Teal'c would be at his side and they wouldn't be searching for Daniel.

He sighed, trying to push the negative thoughts to the back of his mind. They weren't helping.

"Carter," he said, his voice unnaturally loud. "You said Daniel was about three blocks west of the monument, correct?"

"Yes, Sir," she replied, her eyes meeting his briefly before turning back to the search.

"Okay. I want you to take the right side of the street. I'll take the left. He couldn't have gone far."

She nodded immediately and changed her path, heading directly for the first open door while Jack mirrored her movements on the opposite side of the street.

The light on the end of his P90 illuminated every dark corner of the structures he entered and after a quick sweep each room he was able to move on. Building after building of half-destroyed and broken walls and furnishings were the only things he saw.

Where the hell did Daniel go?

As he stepped back out into the street, Jack spotted Carter several yards ahead of him, her steps sure, her attention focused on the structures before her.

Moving quickly, Jack's eyes scanned the area outside the next open doorway, but nothing had changed.

The quiet was unsettling, almost as if the ruins themselves were holding their breath, waiting for something to happen.

Flicking the light back on as he entered the next room, Jack was surprised to see something other than the broken tables and chairs that had littered the rooms he'd investigated before. Daniel was standing in the back of the room, his eyes fixed intently on a strange device embedded in the wall.

"Daniel!"

After a quick survey of the room, noting the archeologist's abandoned pack and digital video camera in a pile on the floor, Jack ran the several feet to where his friend stood unmoving.

A tug on the younger man's arm, however, was not enough to dislodge him or even draw his attention away from the glowing crystal in the middle of the device on the wall. And, much to Jack's surprise, the Daniel's hands were nowhere near the object in question. For once in his life it looked like he hadn't touched some alien object. In this case, however, not touching didn't seem to have helped.

"Daniel, for crying out loud, what's going on?"

When no answer seemed imminent, Jack toggled his radio with his left hand, his right one resting on Daniel's shoulder, his fingers immediately finding the pulse on the younger man's neck. The steady beat under his fingertips was reassuring. Daniel was alive, unresponsive, but alive. "Carter, get over here. I found Daniel, but something's wrong. He's conscious, but not responding. I'm about four buildings east of you."

"I'll be right there, Sir," she replied as Jack began a much more serious examination of his friend and the predicament he found him in.

Simple sometimes worked the best. Jack grimaced slightly. "Sorry, buddy," he muttered as he wrapped his arms around Daniel's middle. Jack tried to lift him, but it was as if the archeologist had gained thousands of pounds. Panting, Jack tried again. And again. And again. Nothing he did, from pulling and tugging to trying to shove him a centimeter in any direction, was working.

This was so not fun.

With two swift steps he was at Daniel's backpack. Pilfering his boonie hat, Jack returned, flopping it down on the archeologist's head, making sure the rim cut off Daniel's vision of the hand-size crystal mounted in the wall.

Waiting a few beats, Jack tried to move him again.

No change.

Sighing, he pulled the hat off Daniel's head and tossed it over his shoulder, not looking at where it landed. Quickly kneeling, he took his knife out and began digging around his friend's feet. Something had to be holding him in place. But what? Jack couldn't see anything or feel anything, and except for the fact that Daniel was absolutely rigid, the younger man could have just been looking at another artifact. His skin was warm. His heart was beating. He was breathing.

He just wasn't moving.

What the hell was going on?

A scattering of pebbles and sand alerted him to Carter's entrance. Jack spoke without lifting his head as he dug a little deeper, finding only dirt and more dirt. He was getting nowhere fast and digging to China with his knife was not on his daily agenda. "Carter, get over here and help me get him away from this thing."

"Did he touch it?" she asked, the words filled with a foreboding that Jack did not like.

"I don't know," he remarked sharply, glancing up at her. "He wasn't touching it when I came in."

"That's good, because I don't know what it'll do."

Jack's eyes narrowing as he leaned back, resting his weight on his feet, wiping his dusty knife on his pant leg before sliding it back into its sheath. Digging was not helping. "Can you at least hazard some sort of a guess?"

"I'm not sure, but the last time I got readings like this was when the Ancient's device grabbed your head, Sir."

"Oh, for crying…Carter—" He took a deep breath. "I want him, and us, out of here ASAP."

"I agree, Sir. How?"

Jack waved in the archeologist's direction. "I was trying the simple grab and run routine, but good old Danny-boy has apparently discovered a case of alien crazy glue. He ain't moving."

"This never happened before."

His mouth rose in a humorless smile as his eyes rolled heavenward. Thank you, Captain Obvious. "Ya think?"

"Let me check something, Sir," she said, grimacing slightly, as she stepped back a few feet. Jack watched as she unclipped her pack and knelt down, rummaging through its contents. Standing, careful of his creaking knees, he turned his attention back to the archeologist and noticed two things.

First, the light from the center of the device was getting brighter—at least it seemed like it was.

And second, Daniel's hand was nearly touching the clear surface of the crystal. Only a minute ago it had been at the younger man's side.

Lurching forward, Jack clamped on it tight, tugging at the younger man's arm, trying to lower it, trying to make sure it didn't reach its intended destination.

"Carter, whatever you're doing…hurry."

"What?" Without looking back, he could clearly see her in his mind's eye—her puzzled expression, her forehead furrowed as she glanced up at him.

He was too busy trying to move Daniel's arm away from the crystal to see if he was right.

She appeared at his elbow a few seconds later, her eyes expressive, her empty hands raised in an offer of assistance. "Let me help."

He shook his head emphatically. "I can handle this. You can help by finding out how to get him out of this mess. I need one of us mobile."

She nodded once before moving off again out of his direct line of sight. He could feel the tension in the air, thick enough to cut it with a knife.

But even as he hung onto the archeologist's right hand, Daniel's left arm began to rise as well. Shifting positions, Jack reached around, capturing both of Daniel's hands, trying to force them back downward.

Sweat was popping out along his hairline and he could feel the hot trickle of a solitary drop sliding down his face, following the line of his jaw.

He wasn't winning. He needed someone stronger.

He forced the question out through gritted teeth. "Where is Teal'c?"

"I don't' know, Sir, but we have to get out of here now. The energy readings are starting to go off the scale."

Jack chanced one glance toward the scientist, his brown eyes wide as he watched her wave her tricorder-thingie around, her eyes fixed to the screen. "I am not leaving him here."

"I can't explain this, Sir, but it seems as if the energy is building up right in this building—maybe it's tied in with the crystal—but if we don't get out of here soon—"

"We all go boom? I need another option, Carter." He turned back to the archeologist, realizing that the younger man's hands were barely an inch from the crystal. Glancing back over his shoulder he saw Carter toggling her radio.

"Teal'c, come in."

"Tell him to hurry," Jack said, wishing he were anywhere except here, hanging onto his friend's arms for dear life. If Carter was right—and she nearly always was—the minute Daniel touched that crystal they'd all be blown to kingdom come.

That was so not an option.

"I am just entering the city limits, Captain Carter. What is the situation?"

"Daniel's stuck in some kind of trap, and the Colonel's trying to keep him from touching this large crystal. He needs your help."

Jack nearly laughed, but knew how much that would cost him in term of his concentration and right now, he needed every ounce.

"I will endeavor to speed up my pace, but it will still take time."

"How long, Carter? Ask him how long?" Right now, Jack was measuring the distance between Daniel's hand and the crystal by the width of hairs. It wouldn't be long before contact was made.

"The Colonel wants to know how long it will take you. We're three blocks west of the big monument in the center of the city."

The answer when it came was not encouraging. "Ten minutes."

Jack groaned. Unless some kind of miracle occurred, they were dead. "Carter, get out of here now," he ordered, a bead of sweat inching down his neck heading for his shirt collar.

"Sir?"

"I gave you a direct order, Captain. Get out of here."

"Teal'c's on his way," she protested.

"Not enough time," he said, finally turning to look at her, his brown eyes conveying the hopelessness of the situation. Daniel's hands were nearly touching the crystal. Even if Jack let go now, there was no way he would make it out of the building in time. He was already a dead man. At least if Carter left now, half of his team would make it home.

It wasn't a good solution, but it was better then none.

"Go."

*~*~*

Sam Carter looked up from the device she held in her sweating hands right into the intense eyes of her commanding officer.

In them, she saw his resignation of the situation, his anger, his regrets, and his desire to make sure his team still made it home—even if it was without him.

"Go."

She nodded, the inevitability of the situation settling over her like a thick sodden wool blanket. Her body and hands moved automatically on autopilot, her mind too shocked to comprehend anything beyond the physical sensations as she pulled her things together.

Swinging the pack onto her back, her left hand immediately went to toggle her radio. There was no sense in Teal'c hurrying to meet them…to meet her.

Pausing at the door, she looked back over her shoulder toward the two men silhouetted by the now bright glow of the crystal, locked in a struggle with an invisible enemy.

The Colonel turned his head once again and the glow from the orb reflected eerily off of his eyes; eyes that were narrowing at her hesitation.

He didn't have to say a word.

He wanted to make sure she was clear, that she was safe. It was what he did—and he did it well.

She inclined her head once, a gesture of respect to her commanding officer and her friend, before turning back to the door. But even as she turned, her finger already touching the transmission button on her radio, the sudden increase in the intensity of the light caught her eye once again.

O'Neill's strangled words were wrenched from his chest. "Carter, get out of here now!"

Half in the door and half out, she froze for a moment as the light suddenly flashed through the room. The bodies of both of her friends flew through the air, landing with a sickening thud against the wall next to her before sliding down into a tangled heap on the dirt floor.

"Teal'c!" she cried, even as she felt the edge of the energy wake as it caught up with her, sending her into the street beyond the door.

Her own echoing cry was the last thing she heard.

*~*~*

Even before Captain Carter's voice died on the air, Teal'c's legs were pumping, trying to propel his body even faster along the avenues of the city.

There was something about her tone, about the sounds of that frantic call that frightened him.

Something had gone terribly wrong.

Of that, he was certain.

As he ran, he tried to contact the rest of his team, but all he got was static and an unnerving silence.

Three blocks from the monument, just as Captain Carter had said, Teal'c slowed, looking for signs of his friends, signs that someone had passed through.

With the wind blowing the dirt and the dust, it was difficult—but not impossible—to track their movements. Two had passed this way recently, most likely O'Neill and Captain Carter. Any sign of Daniel Jackson's passing had long since vanished.

Following the trail, his staff weapon poised, his ears and his eyes searching for anything out of place, he moved slowly but steadily.

The silence of the city was suffocating.

At the entrance of one of the buildings he paused, the dirt disturbed more here than anywhere else. Peering inside, Teal'c squinted trying to make out the details of the room in the dim light.

Moving cautiously, the tip of his staff weapon cleared the doorframe, his body following seconds later, his dark eyes scanning the interior.

This had to be the building of which Captain Carter had spoke. At about eye level a large device was embedded in the rear wall, its central crystal dark.

Of his friends, however, there was no sign.

Determining the room to be empty, Teal'c straightened, the butt end of his staff weapon resting lightly on the floor beside him. His eyes continued to examine the building's interior, noting several places where the ground had recently been disturbed. One section near the crystal looked as if someone had dug into the ground. Along the opposite wall the dirt was scuffed, indicating that something had once lain upon it.

Tilting his head, Teal'c's gaze caught something on that wall and his feet immediately moved, allowing him to examine the spot closer. It was up high, several inches above his head, a dark smudge on the tan-colored sandstone bricks.

He reached up, his finger pausing above the area before touching it lightly.

The substance was sticky, its consistency familiar.

Bringing it closer to his face, he rubbed his two fingers together, letting the dark substance coat the tips. A quick sniff only confirmed his initial thought—this was blood.

A growing sense of anxiety and apprehension filled his mind.

How did this blood get there? And whose was it?

Kneeling down, his hands moved with a purpose. He unclipped his backpack and reached in; grabbing the small medical kit he carried. Ripping open one of the sterile gauze packets, he rose, wiping the dark smudge of blood from the wall, trying to get enough of the substance for Doctor Frasier to examine.

It was the only way he would know for certain if the blood belonged to one of his teammates.

Folding the gauze pad in on itself, he uncapped a small sample container and shoved it in with a finger before closing the lid tightly, placing it in his vest pocket for safekeeping. The rest of the items repacked quickly, and less than a minute later he was standing, his pack returned to its original position on his back.

It had only taken a minute to collect the sample, but had it been too long? The still wet and tacky blood indicated that someone had been here recently—very recently. And he had spoken to Captain Carter less than fifteen minutes ago.

Where could they have gone?

Moving toward the door, he glanced around one last time, his eye catching the edge of something else. Crossing the room, he knelt down, reaching under the broken remains of what could have been a table, his fingers encountering soft fabric.

Pulling it out, he recognized it immediately: Daniel Jackson's hat.

Clutching it in his hands, he rose and headed for the door.

Moving as quickly as his feet would take him, Teal'c surveyed the street outside, looking for any other signs, for any further evidence that someone had passed this way.

A smaller set of single tracks across the street sent him moving again, investigating the buildings where they led. He moved quickly, efficiently, his mind and body working in total unison, all of his senses on high alert.

And even when the tracks ended, he continued on, moving even quicker now, searching all of the buildings on the remainder of the street that were still standing, the fear and anxiety only growing in his mind.

They were gone.

Even though he wanted to remain, to continue searching, he knew what had to be done. He had to report to General Hammond immediately. Something had happened to his team. There was too much city for one Jaffa to cover thoroughly. Another team—several more teams with high-tech equipment—would cover the area much more effectively.

He wasn't giving up. He merely needed additional assistance.

Maybe if he told himself that enough times he'd believe it.

But how was he going to explain to General Hammond that his friends—his team—was missing?

*~*~*

Sergeant Harriman's voice was barely loud enough to be heard over the shrieking of the klaxons. "Sir, we're getting a radio signal from SG-1."

"Thank you, Sergeant," Hammond said as he paused in his headlong charge, noting that the Stargate's iris was still closed and locked down tight. Leaning down he keyed the microphone. "This is Hammond. SG-1 come in."

The voice he heard nearly made his heart stop. Teal'c was never the one who called home.

"General Hammond, I require additional assistance in the form of men and equipment."

Hammond's eyes narrowed and for a brief second he caught the Sergeant's confused gaze. "Teal'c, what's going on?"

"The remainder of SG-1 is missing. I require additional back-up to search the city more thoroughly."

"Missing?" One thing was certain; the Jaffa had a hell of a knack for understatement. "What happened?"

"I am uncertain as to the specifics of the events that led to their disappearance. I was conducting a final perimeter survey as per O'Neill's orders when I received O'Neill's message that Daniel Jackson was missing and that he and Captain Carter were proceeding to Daniel Jackson's last known position to investigate. When I finally reached the outskirts of the once inhabited area, Captain Carter reported that Daniel Jackson had accidentally encountered a trap. When I arrived, they had vanished."

"There was a trap?"

"According to Captain Carter, yes."

"Teal'c, I think it would be better if you came home now and we can send out additional teams once they've been properly debriefed. Why don't you—"

"I plan on continuing the search while the teams assemble. When should I expect them to arrive?"

"Teal'c—" Hammond began, but was cut off by the Jaffa's dark voice.

"General Hammond, I will not leave my friends and teammates to die on this planet if it is within my ability to find and rescue them. I also have a blood sample that needs to be analyzed by Doctor Frasier. I am sending the iris code. If you will open the iris I will send it back with the MALP."

"Whose blood?"

"Of that, I am uncertain. I require Doctor Frasier to make that determination. Are you prepared to receive the MALP?"

Hammond knew the Jaffa was not going to budge. Who was he kidding? Teal'c still responded best to orders issued by O'Neill.

Harriman looked up, a half-smile on his face as if he knew the very thoughts running through Hammond's mind. "I have SG-1's iris code now, Sir."

Hammond sighed, nodding once, decisively. "Open the iris, Sergeant."

"Yes, Sir," Harriman nodded as he keyed in the code to open the barrier. The sound of metal on metal echoed throughout the Gate room as the blue of the open event horizon shimmered before them.

"Teal'c, the iris is open and we are awaiting the MALP," Hammond said, his voice transmitting through the wormhole.

"Very well, General Hammond. I shall endeavor to remain in radio range until the search parties come through."

"The MALP is in route," Harriman said quietly and the General nodded, acknowledging the report.

"The first team will be through within the hour."

Hammond could picture Teal'c's physical response in his mind, the tall Jaffa's head tipping downward in a gesture of respect and thanks.

"Hammond out."

Pursing his lips, he paused, waiting as the MALP lumbered down the ramp, the Stargate shutting down with a snap-hiss.

"Sergeant, have SG-3 report to the briefing room immediately. I have to tell them what little information I have before I send them out. And make sure the sample Teal'c sent gets down to Doctor Frasier."

"Yes, Sir," Harriman said, his hand already reaching for the microphone to order the team to report in.

Hammond sighed. It was going to be one of those days.

*~*~*

Sam Carter woke with a start.

It was dark, darker than it should have been given the fact that her last memory involved bright sunshine and light breezes.

Her trembling arms barely held when she pushed against the cold, smooth floor and slowly rolled her body into a sitting position. Her head spun, bright lights flickering in her mind, as her body tried to compensate for her movements.

It took a few seconds for the room and her stomach to settle and her narrowed eyes to adjust to the dim illumination. The black, spartan, cavernous room surged out before her, its edges lost in the darkness. A few feet from where she sat stood a single raised platform, only about six inches or so in height, stark in the darkness, a solitary light shining down from above.

As she gazed around, trying to take in as much detail as possible, her eyes caught a glimpse of fabric, a pile of drab green cloth and she instinctively began to move toward it, crawling slowly, her muscles aching, her head pounding.

She was unarmed, she vaguely realized as her scattered thoughts slowly coalesced in her mind. Her weapons were gone in the blink of an eye along with her backpack and its entire store of contents. Just one aspirin would do wonders right now. But that was something she could think about later. Right now, the pile of cloth wasn't moving.

Inch by inch she crawled, the spots growing before her, forcing her to rest every few feet. That energy wave—whatever it was—packed quite a wallop.

Her hands reached out before her, finally touching the warmth of flesh and skin. Sliding closer, she rolled the body over onto its back, Daniel's unconscious form pliable.

Moving again, Sam stretched out her shaking hand until her fingers grazed his neck searching out the telltale sign of life, the thump-thumping of his pulse.

The fluttering beneath her fingers only meant one thing: he was alive.

"Daniel?" she said, her voice barely a whisper. She gently shook him once, her cry nearly lost to the darkness. "Daniel?"

The silence, however, was deep.

Glancing up from Daniel's unmoving form, Sam's gaze came to rest on another body several yards away at the edge of the halo of light, nearly hidden in the darkness. Its head was turned away, the dark red patch amidst salt-and-pepper strands making her stomach lurch.

She remembered the sound, that sickening thud as moving bodies had hit that stone wall.

Bodies in motion…

She shook her head, trying to clear it, to rid herself of the memory and the sound, but only managed to increase the pounding from within.

Aspirin would be lovely right about now.

Scrambling around the archeologist, her trembling arms barely held her upright, her booted feet squeaking on the floor. She inched closer to her commanding officer.

The bloody gash was no better close up.

She was pleased when the light touch of her fingers on the artery at the side of his neck found a strong pulse. The breath she'd been holding came out in a rush.

Thank God.

Unconsciousness was something she could deal with. Death was not an option.

"Sir?" she called, her hand on O'Neill's shoulder, shaking him gently. His color was off, but it appeared as if the wound on the back of his head had stopped bleeding. If only she had a cloth and some water to clean it.

She sighed and chuckled humorlessly. Add it to the wish list.

The rustle of fabric and a groan whipped her head around, the nauseous feeling returning momentarily with her sudden movement, but vanishing as quickly as it came.

Daniel was waking, his hands pressed against his head, the palms grinding into his eyes, his spectacles held between two trembling fingers.

"Daniel?" she called out, her voice nearly drowning in the expanse. She was reluctant to leave her commanding officer's side. The first rule of first aid was vigilance against a condition that could worsen without warning. But Daniel was coming around in a seemingly befuddled awareness.

After sending a brief but apologetic glance to O'Neill, she slid to the archeologist, her arms steadier now. Sam touched him gently, trying not to startle him.

"Daniel?"

A groan was her only reply.

She squeezed his shoulder, trying with her touch and her words to help him past the initial confusion and pain that she'd experienced. "Take it easy."

But even with her reassurances, Sam could feel the tension grow beneath her hand.

"Sam?" His voice was hesitant, his tone perplexed, but he was speaking. So far, so good—and he knew who she was.

"I'm right here," she said, leaning down, her blonde hair shifting to graze her cheek. She absently reached up with her free hand, tucking the strands behind her ear, absently making a mental note to get a haircut. It was way past time. "Are you okay?"

"Head hurts."

"I know," she nodded even though the archeologist had yet to open his eyes. "It'll get better, just take it easy."

A few beats later Daniel pulled his hands away from his face, his blue eyes bloodshot and showing every bit of concern that she knew they would. "How do you know?"

Sam smiled. "You weren't the only one knocked out by whatever that crystal was."

It took a few seconds for her comment to process, but he was up in a shot as soon as it registered. His hands immediately followed, holding his head tight as he groaned.

"You have to be careful, Daniel," she chided, sympathizing with him, the memories of her own awakening still fresh in her mind. "Move slowly. It'll pass."

"I know, I know…stupid," he said, his words mumbled. A few moments passed before he was able to look up again, his face holding a certain innocence and reverence she hadn't seen in a long time. It wasn't the expression she was expecting—at all.

"Daniel? What is it?"

He shook his head slightly, carefully, narrowing his eyes a little as he slid his glasses back into place, settling them on the bridge of his nose. "The crystal. I was thinking about that crystal and the device..." His words trailing off a little, but he continued a beat later. "Did you see it too? Wasn't it beautiful?"

"I saw it, but it didn't have the same effect on the Colonel and me as it did on you."

"Huh?" he said, his forehead creasing. "What do you mean?"

"When the Colonel found you in that building, you were unresponsive. He tried everything to get you out of that room, but we didn't make it."

"We?" Daniel paused for a moment and Sam could almost see the wheels in his head spinning, trying to make sense of whatever memories he had. "Jack? Jack's here?"

Daniel's head turned, surveying the room, his eyes narrowing even further as he scanned the artificial twilight. His gaze finally settled on the still figure behind her.

"Oh, God, Jack…" his voice faded as he turned back to Sam, his blue eyes glassy."What happened?"

Daniel, like the rest of SG-1, knew that the Colonel was always the first one to come around. For him to still be unconscious was not a good sign.

Sam sighed, the memory replaying in her mind. "He was trying to stop you from touching the crystal. He'd ordered me to leave, but—"

Daniel's eyes knowing. "You delayed."

Sam nodded, grimacing slightly as she looked down at her hands, watching as they picked at the edge of her BDUs. "We didn't know what would happen. We thought that the energy in the device was building up for some kind of gigantic explosion. He was trying to give me time to get away."

"And then?"

"And then you touched the crystal. There was a wave of energy that sent you and the Colonel flying across the room—"

When she didn't immediately continue, Daniel touched her hands, stilling her fingers. She raised her head, looking into his eyes. His tone was sympathetic. "And then?"

"You hit the wall. The Colonel first. Come to think of it, I think he might have cushioned your impact."

"Damn."

His comment, nearly silent, expressed the full depth of his emotions. Even unintentionally, the Colonel protected his team, taking the full brunt of whatever the universe threw at them—and getting injured in the process.

The silence stretched out between them, their own thoughts providing the dialogue.

"How is he?" Daniel finally said, his words quiet and tinged with meaning.

Sam shrugged, tipping her head to the side. "Unconscious. I was checking on him when you started coming around. I should get back to that."

Daniel briefly rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, his fingers drifting under the collar of his shirt, his eyes drifting over to the Colonel. The archeologist started moving toward the silent figure a moment later, easily sliding across the short distance. As soon as he was close enough, Daniel reached out, his hand automatically feeling for the Colonel's pulse, his fingers resting lightly against the Colonel's pale skin.

A few seconds later, Daniel shrugged himself out of his long-sleeved drab green shirt, folding it several times before sliding it gently under the Colonel's head.

After a quick but thorough examination, Daniel glanced over his shoulder toward Sam, his blue eyes as deep as the ocean, the message clear. He was concerned—as was Sam—about the blood and O'Neill's unconscious state.

"Are you sure he's okay?"

Sam moved closer once again, maneuvering to the Colonel's other side. Her hand came to rest on the Colonel's shoulder, his constant inhalations and exhalations comforting.

Glancing up from her broken nails, harsh against the rough material of his BDUs, Sam nodded once, slowly. "The gash looks worse than it is. Head wounds always bleed a lot. I just wish we had something to clean it with."

"I know." He paused, his eyes dropping to rest on his friend's pale face before continuing. "No sign of Teal'c?"

Sam shook her head. "None." Her eyes tracked away from her teammates for a few seconds, scanning as much of the darkness as she was able, but nothing had changed. "And I have no idea where we are or how we got here."

"That could be a problem."

Her lip twitched in an unintentional half-smile as she caught Daniel's gaze. "You could say that. I think I'm going to scout a little. Are you going to be—"

"Fine," Daniel nodded, his response cutting her question short. "I'll stay with Jack."

"Okay," she said, rising slowly to her feet, careful not to set the room spinning, but pleasantly surprised when it remained stationary—at least the part she could see.

"Sam, what happens if you find something?" Daniel's voice was tentative, as if he really didn't want to know the answer.

"It depends on what I find."

"And if there's nothing…"

"Then I'm in for a rather boring investigation."

"That's not what I meant."

Sam sighed. "I know. Let's see what I find before we go trying to make up worst case scenarios. Something or someone transported us here, so there has to be some way to get back to where we were."

"And if there's not?"

"Then we're in for one hell of a long wait."

*~*~*

His head was throbbing and his butt was numb.

Minor details to some, but right now those two items made up the majority of Jack O'Neill's world.

Aspirin would be nice.

Trying not to think too hard, Jack began taking stock of his situation. It seemed as if every part was still attached, his arms and legs free of any binding or restraint, although his body twanged with pain. It was uncomfortable, if not entirely pain-free, to breathe. Ribs. Something had happened there. He didn't think they were broken. Broken was a different twinge. This was most likely a bruise, and a pretty good one at that.

It was quiet, too quiet to be the infirmary. He knew those sounds intimately—a knowledge he wished he didn't have.

He was not alone, however. He could sense the presence of others—more than one—his radar working overtime.

And the room felt big. Not a scientific deduction, he knew, but his gut was usually correct in situations such as these.

The next step was for him to open his eyes, but it would be so much easier to just go back to sleep.

That, unfortunately, was not an option. He needed to know where he was and what was going on. According to his last working neuron, he should have been dead, but apparently someone else had another idea.

Not that he was complaining, mind you, but he could surely do without the marching band.

The brush of a hand against his neck nearly made him jump out of his skin and he couldn't help but twitch.

"Jack?"

Daniel was here. And he was talking—go figure. At least one of his teammates was accounted for. Two more to go.

Jack creaked an eyelid open and a blurry Daniel edged into view. "Jack?" Daniel looked away briefly, calling out over his shoulder. "Sam? Jack's coming around." He turned back to Jack a moment later, a half-smile on this face.

Two down. One to go.

"Daniel?" he croaked, trying to moisten his lips a little, his voice rough. He pried open the other eye, the darkness surrounding him unexpected. "What happened? Where are we? Where's Teal'c?"

Whatever answer Daniel was going to give was interrupted as one slightly frayed Captain stumbled into view, kneeling beside him. "Sir, how are you doing?"

"Confused, Carter. Where are we? What happened? Where's Teal'c?" His voice sounded a little stronger, so Jack tried to raise himself up to get a better look around, but was held down by one of Daniel's hands against his shoulder.

"Take it easy, Jack."

"I'm not crippled, for crying out loud. Let me up," he growled, pushing a little against his friend's hand, pain flaring in his mid-section. He was surprised, however, at how strong Daniel had become. Or was it something else? Something twanged in the back of his mind, but he ignored it.

"Sir," Carter said, her tone carrying a hint of anxiety. "It might be better if you lie down, at least for a little while. You were unconscious and have a pretty good sized gash on the back of your head. I wouldn't be surprised if you have a concussion."

"It's not like I've never had one before, and from the heavy metal concert going on in there, I figure you're right. But that doesn't mean I can't get up."

"Jack—"

"Sir—"

He narrowed his eyes, glaring at the two of them. Instead of belaboring the point, he settled for another question. "Where's Teal'c?"

"I don't know. He's not here." Carter shared a glance with the archeologist. "We're hoping he's still in the city somewhere."

"Damn," Jack said, trying to think past the marching band in his head. "How long was I out?"

Both Carter and Daniel glanced away but the archeologist turned back a few seconds later, his blue eyes meeting Jack's at last. "You've been unconscious about an hour longer than me, so about three hours total."

Three hours? Crap. "That's not good."

"No, Sir. We've been worried."

"Are you injured?"

"No, not really," Carter answered. "We had some reaction to the energy that knocked us out. Headache and nausea, but that passed relatively quickly."

"Daniel?"

"I'm okay, Jack."

"You sure? No weird effects from that crystal?"

"None."

Jack paused, not entirely believing the archeologist. Daniel could be missing a limb and he'd say he was okay. "Carter, that true?"

"As far I can see, Sir, Daniel's fine. A little bruised and banged up, but I think you managed to cushion most of his impact."

Jack rolled his eyes, wishing the band would take an intermission. The noise in his head only seemed to have gotten louder. He raised his hand and closed his eyes, squeezing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. "Remind me not to try and save Daniel's ass again. I nearly always end up with the short straw."

There was one other thing, apart from the rock band, that needed to be addressed—and this was something he could fix. And this time he wasn't taking no for an answer. Jack pulled his hand away from his head and opened his eyes. "I need to get up."

"Sir—"

"But Jack—"

"Ack! Don't make me repeat myself. My butt is numb and I need to get up and move. You can either help me or watch me fall on my face. Your choice."

"Sir, I don't think it's a good idea," Carter protested.

"Carter—" Jack began, his tone his only warning. He wasn't in the mood for their mothering.

"We'll take it slow," Daniel said, his tone patronizing, but Jack didn't care. He was getting results. "How about we move him to the platform, Sam? It looks a little bit more comfortable than the floor."

"Sure," she finally agreed, her voice resigned.

"Okay, Jack," Daniel said, grasping his hand while his other hand slid behind Jack's shoulder. Cater was mirroring Daniel's motions on his other side. "We're going to take it slow. Tell us if we hurt you."

"Let's just get moving already," Jack groused, his stomach muscles tensing as he prepared himself.

A flare of pain across his mid-section seconds later, his back barely inches off the ground, sent a muttered curse into the atmosphere. Make that badly bruised ribs.

"Sir?"

"Just keep going," Jack said, pushing the words past his clenched teeth.

"This might not be a good idea, Jack."

"Daniel," he half-bellowed, the word louder than he wanted as a particularly sharp pain flashed up. The rock band was starting to reach its crescendo and his stomach was starting to rebel.

"Fine," the archeologist mumbled and Jack's view of the world widened as he finally sat upright, beads of sweat marring his forehead.

There was a whole lot of nothing here.

Damn. Where were they?

His roving eyes spotted the platform Daniel had mentioned a few minutes earlier, the surface covered in something that resembled carpet. It had to be better than the floor. Anything was better than the floor.

Daniel's face hovered in front of him a few seconds later, his blue eyes wide. "Jack? You still with us?"

He nodded once, his voice unavailable for the moment.

Vaguely, while he tried to hold onto whatever was left of his breakfast, Jack realized that had Daniel glanced away from him and toward Carter, sharing a long look with the Captain. Jack knew what Daniel was thinking and Jack had to admit that he might be right. It might not have been the brightest of ideas to move.

Pushing back the bile, Jack tried to swallow, to clear his throat. He closed his eyes, steadying himself, and took a deep breath. Letting it out slowly, his eyes drifted open.

"Okay, once more, with feeling. And this time we'll go all the way."

"Are you sure, Jack?"

He nodded once, the movement curt. "Positive."

Another glance passed between the two hovering on either side of him before they tugged him upward, his legs a little less supportive than he thought they'd be.

A wall of pain crashed down—a combination of the band's climax, his bruised and battered body, and his tortured stomach—and he felt himself going, the darkness around him graying out at the edges more and more.

Damn.

Was someone turning off the lights?

Daniel's and Carter's frantic calls followed him down into the dark pool below.

*~*~*

Daniel sighed, dropping down next to Sam after finally levering the dead weight of one unconscious Colonel onto the raised platform in the center of the room.

Jack needed to lose a few pounds.

"Sam, there has to be a way out of here."

"Well, I haven't found one yet," she said, shoving an errant strand of blonde behind her ear, her booted feet planted solidly on the floor, her arms resting on top of her knees. Her frustration was clearly evident in the tone of her voice. "I only had the chance to search part of the room, but the substantial lack of light doesn't exactly help my progress."

"I know, I know," he said, leaning back on his elbows, letting the silence of the room spill over him. It was unnaturally quiet here, wherever here was. No audible hum of a power supply or air vents was evident, but both were obviously in good working order. As Sam indicated, the light, or more specifically the distinct lack thereof, wasn't making an easy job of their initial investigation of the area.

Sighing, his eyes drifted toward Jack. With him unconscious, Daniel knew that Sam felt responsible for his wellbeing, but Daniel's own guilt weighed heavily. If he hadn't gone into that room. If he hadn't touched the crystal. He sighed deeply.

Why was hindsight always 20/20?

Snaking a finger under his glasses, Daniel rubbed his eyes, the headache substantially improved but not entirely gone. Aspirin would be nice right about now.

Or coffee. The caffeine would definitely help.

Absently, Daniel realized that the older man's eyes were twitching beneath their lids, the furrow in his forehead deep. Tilting his head and narrowing his eyes, Daniel watched as a muscle twitched along Jack's jaw. "Sam," he said, drawing her attention, "is he coming around?"

Her gaze, focused outward toward the darkness, turned to the figure in question, her body shifting to accommodate the view. She watched Jack for several seconds, taking in the waxen complexion, the slight movement in his limbs, his deepening frown. "I think you might be right." She moved closer, leaning forward, her hand lightly touching his upper arm. "Sir?"

She paused, waiting for a reaction before trying again. "Sir? Can you hear me?"

"Oy."

It was breathy and decidedly weak, but it was Jack. The older man's shaking hands slowly traveled upward until they finally rested on his head, cradling it gently.

Daniel scooted closer. "Jack?"

A deep sigh and a groan were his only answers.

Sam met his gaze across O'Neill's supine figure, taking in Daniel's downcast expression and obviously weighing their situation. In that one moment, Daniel's guilt was on his sleeve. Sometimes it was as if she could see right through him. Kind of eerie actually.

"Give him a few minutes, Daniel."

He sighed and nodded, focusing instead on the darkness beyond the circle of light surrounding them. "Where do you think we are?"

Sam took a deep breath before she answered, running a hand through her hair, letting the strands settle back down, some sticking up slightly. "I'm not sure. The temperature's regulated and there's light, so I don't think we're within the city. There wasn't anything that remotely resembled this on the planet's surface."

"No, nothing," Daniel agreed, thinking back to the ruins they'd been investigating before they'd ended up here.

"The only energy reading seemed to be coming from that crystal. It could have been a transport device of some kind, but I don't know what the purpose of the energy build-up and that energy wave could be." She shrugged, her mind still spinning possible theories and speculations. "For all we know we could be on the other side of the universe."

"But, think about it, Sam. We had to have had contact with someone. I know we've discovered alien races that can disable and remove our weapons and whatever technological items we have. This time it's different. They took everything except our clothes, our shoes, and our watches. Someone had to physically do that, piece by piece. Right?" Daniel chuckled humorlessly. "And, I even got to keep my glasses this time."

Sam smiled, sharing the moment of levity. "Who knows, Daniel. We've seen some strange things out here. Anything is possible. Personally, I'm glad they left us our underwear and we didn't end up in some strange version of an alien toga."

"Me too."

Daniel's eyes immediately turned to Jack who'd lobbed the comment, a half-smile shining on his lips. "Welcome back, Jack."

A dark brown eye peered out from under fingers. "So the whole movement thing—"

Daniel nodded. "Yeah, wasn't the best idea you've had."

"It was an idea."

"True," Daniel conceded, shooting Sam a brief smile before Jack's weak, but all-business tone, brought them back to the conversation at hand.

"Status?"

"We're fine, Sir," Sam answered, folding her legs so she was sitting Indian-style, her elbows resting on her knees. Under the harsh light, she looked pale—not as faded as Jack by any means, but not up to her usual par. Daniel figured he was somewhere in that boat as well. His head wasn't as bad as it was earlier, but it still wasn't a picnic.

"You were only out a few minutes this time. In the meantime, Daniel and I have been trying to figure out where we might be."

"On the same planet?"

Sam hesitated before answering. "It's likely that we are, but Daniel and I were both unconscious for nearly two hours. We could have been transported anywhere, Sir."

Jack had pulled his hands away from his face as Sam spoke, his forehead creased in concentration, his jaw tight, his eyes shifting between the two of them. "But, it would have had to be by ship and there's only so far it could have gone in that time, right?"

"They could have taken us through the gate, Jack."

The older man turned his head, pinning Daniel with a single glance. "No. It would have taken too long. We were several clicks from the gate and besides, Teal'c would be here with us. He was coming in from the gate-side. We, or whoever kidnapped us, would have come face-to-face with him as they tried to sneak us out. And we all know how Teal'c can be. No, we're still on that planet."

How he could make those leaps, Daniel never knew, but when Jack jumped more often than not, he was right.

"Sir, there's no evidence to indicate—"

"Carter, just humor me."

Daniel crossed his arms over his chest. "So, if we go by your…thought, we're somewhere on the planet. Any ideas where or who might have wanted us dropping in for dinner?"

"You're the scientists. Figure it out," Jack grunted, rolling onto his side in an attempt to shift his weight and push himself into a sitting position.

"Jack—" Daniel protested followed, leaning forward, his hands outstretched just in case the older man actually made it.

Sam was hovering in a similar manner on the other side. "Sir, I think you should lie down."

"Why?" he grunted, his arms shaking as he raised himself up, and much to Daniel's surprise, remained upright. "Think I might pass out again?"

"The thought crossed my mind," Daniel answered as he narrowed his eyes, watching as Jack wrapped an arm around his middle, supporting his obviously injured ribs. "You going to be okay?"

"Nothing a little Aspirin wouldn't fix."

"Well, Jack, it seems we're all plumb out." Daniel raised an eyebrow toward Jack's midsection. "What's wrong with your ribs?"

Jack glanced over, his brown eyes glassy. "Nothing. Why do you ask?"

Daniel exchanged a look with Sam before answering. "Well, you're holding onto them as if they might pop out of your body and you've been cringing. Kind of a dead giveaway. Broken?"

Jack shook his head, his eyes focused elsewhere. "No. Bruised most likely. Broken hurts more." He paused for a moment, the muscles in his back tightening, his eyes narrowing.

"Jack?"

A gesture with his chin accompanied Jack's words. "We have company."

Following the older man's gaze, Daniel found himself staring at a young woman, dressed entirely in white, standing at the edge of the light, her hands clasped together before her.

"Hello," Daniel said, flashing a smile while his thoughts spun, a million questions flashing though his mind. Where did she come from? How long had she been there? Who was she? What did she want? And why did she show up now?

The woman didn't answer, merely tilting her head, the light shining off her short light-brown hair, her eyes locked with Jack's.

Daniel tried again. "We're not going to hurt you. Is this your home? How did you get here?" When she didn't respond, Daniel shot a quick glance toward Sam, whose expression he knew, matched his own.

"Carter, Daniel, any ideas?"

"None, Sir," Sam said, her blue eyes searching the figure before them.

"She looks human."

"Good observation there, Danny-boy."

Daniel shot Jack an annoyed glance. "It does narrow it down somewhat."

"But does it talk? That's the real question."

"Actually, Jack, a better question is: does she understand us?"

"That's in your job description, Daniel," Jack said, gesturing toward the woman with his free hand. "Have at it."

"She could speak any language."

"Well, you speak, what, twenty-three? Pick one and start from there."

"It's not that simple."

"Yes, it is."

"No, it's not"

"It is, and as thrilling as this repartee can normally be, it also doesn't serve us much good, now does it?"

Daniel shook his head, conceding Jack his point.

The older man fixed him with a long look before continuing. "Now then, where were we?"

"I believe you were arguing amongst yourselves," floated the reply, snapping Daniel's head around, the rest of his body following. Seconds later, he found himself on his feet staring at two tall, ghost-white aliens clad in flowing white robes. Sam had mirrored Daniel's movement, standing beside him, her back straight, her entire body poised for action.

Instead of jumping to his feet, Jack had shifted slightly in an obvious effort to keep both the girl and the new arrivals in view. He, of course, narrowed his eyes and commented in true Jack O'Neill form. "And we were. Thanks for noticing. Who are you?"

"That really does not concern you, Colonel Jonathan O'Neill, commander of Stargate Command's flagship team, SG-1," replied the taller of the two, the obvious spokesman.

"Well, I'm a curious kind of a guy," Jack said, tilting his head, his arms crossed over his chest. Daniel shot a quick glance toward his friend, taking in his stance and the tightness in his jaw. While trying to keep his tone light, Daniel knew that Jack was ready to move—even injured as he was—at a moment's notice—not that he could actually go far. "Humor me."

Instead of answering, the figure continued, looking at both Daniel and Sam in turn. "Welcome, Daniel Jackson and Captain Samantha Carter. We are looking forward to your stay with us."

Jack's snort traveled well throughout the cavernous room. "Well, we actually had previous arrangements, so if you'd be so kind and just beam us back to wherever you found us, we'd be mighty grateful."

"Unfortunately Colonel, that is not possible."

"Not possible?" Jack repeated, his eyes narrowing further. "Many things are possible. Might it be more accurate to say that you don't want to let us leave?"

The alien inclined his head slightly, his entire body leaning into the gesture. "That might be more accurate."

"Since you obviously know who we are, you have us at a disadvantage," Daniel said, attempting for a more diplomatic approach to the situation. "Would it truly go against your purposes if we were to know your names or the name of your race of beings?"

The two figures glanced at each other and Daniel could nearly feel the unuttered communication flowing between them. They were telepathic to a certain degree at least, of this Daniel was nearly certain. Maybe that was how these aliens knew who they were. That could be the explanation. They turned back to him seconds later, causing Daniel to push his wandering thoughts away. "We are known as the Yalamanchi. I am Kyran. This is Nouri."

"Ring any bells?" Jack asked, his tone slightly vague.

Daniel shook his head, sending a brief glance toward his companions. "Can't say it does."

"That is one reason we did not find it necessary to provide that information initially," said Kyran, as Nouri, the shorter of the two, stepped forward, stopping after a single footstep.

"It would be wise for you not to interfere," Nouri said, his voice deep where his companions was high and thin, his gaze focused somewhere past Daniel's right shoulder.

"What?" Sam said, her frustrations laced into the single word. Apparently he wasn't the only one not following what was going on, he thought to himself, but was cut off mid-stream.

"Uh, guys…"

The tone of Jack's voice turned Daniel and Sam around immediately. Apparently, during their conversation the woman they'd spotted earlier had approached Jack, steadily and quietly, until she stood only a foot or two away, staring down at him, her attention focused completely on him.

Daniel immediately spun back to the two aliens. "What's going on?"

"Do not interfere," Nouri repeated, a small smile gracing his wire-thin blue-hued lips.

Out of the corner of his eye, Daniel watched as Sam turned to them as well, her hands on her hips. He knew the kind of dagger-filled gaze she could throw when she was angry and someone wasn't cooperative. He'd, unfortunately, been at the receiving end of that one particular expression once too often and he had no intention of ever reliving that particular moment in time.

Without batting an eyelash, Sam stared them down. "What do you mean? What's happening? What is she going to do?"

A stifled scream sent chills down Daniel's back. It was a sound he never thought he'd ever hear. Daniel whipped around toward his friend and discovered the woman had latched herself onto Jack, her hands firm on the sides of his head, his body as stiff as a board, his hands stopped mid-flight, as if he were reaching for her but something hadn't allowed him to complete the movement.

Pain was etched into her own features, a beading of sweat growing on her temple, dampening her hair. Her eyes were clenched shut, but she held her ground, her hands firmly in place.

Daniel acted immediately, taking a step to physically remove her from Jack. He was already injured. He didn't need anything else to go wrong.

Unfortunately, Daniel's foot didn't want to leave the ground and his mind and body connection was apparently malfunctioning.

Daniel couldn't move.

"Sam!" Daniel yelled, the words forced out through clenched teeth, through a jaw that didn't want to cooperate.

"Can't…move," came her own stilted reply.

Forcing his body to respond, Daniel tried to turn, willing his body to move even if it was just a millimeter. His helplessness flowed through him like a tidal surge. His entire body felt as if he'd gained hundreds of pounds and with each passing second, the sensation only seemed to increase a hundred-fold.

"I would suggest that you do not fight the force field," said Kyran, as he glided around trailed by his companion, to stand within an arm's reach of the woman and Jack. "It draws its energy directly from your bodies. The more you resist, the stronger the field becomes."

Even as Daniel tried to remain calm, tried to reel in his free-wheeling emotions, Jack stiffened one last time before the woman released her hold, allowing his body to collapse in a heap.

She immediately dropped to her knees, clutching her mid-section, much like Jack had before, and Daniel could swear he saw the hint of blood on the collar of her gown. But in a flash of light, the aliens and the woman were gone.

Daniel stumbled wildly as the support of the force field vanished and he scrambled immediately to Jack's side.

"Jack?"

The paleness of his face and the sheen of sweat across his brow only heightened Daniel's concern. A muffled ouch signaled Sam's inelegant arrival, and Daniel raised his eyes, catching her gaze. "What happened? What did she do to him?"

"I don't know," Sam said, shaking her head as her hands moved—one checking Jack's pulse, the other resting gently against his forehead, pushing away one of the errant strands of his hair.

Jack's eyes opened under her touch, their brown color noticeably dark against his skin. They were glassy and unfocused, staring upward into the light.

"Jack?"

A single blink was the initial reaction Daniel received before Jack turned his head, his eyes slowly converging on Daniel's face hovering above. Recognition came a few moments later. "Daniel?"

"Yes, Jack. How are you?"

"Carter?" he asked instead of answering, his head turning to the other side, his eyes finding the scientist.

"Here, Sir," she replied, a half-smile on her lips. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," Jack answered, groaning a little as he made an attempt to sit up. Daniel laid a hand on his shoulder, stopping his movement, but Jack brushed it aside. "Daniel, I'm fine, now get out of the way."

"I don't think so, Sir," Sam said, refusing to budge.

"Oh, for crying out loud," Jack said, glancing between the two of them, his voice much stronger than before. "If you'd stop mothering me I'd be a lot better."

Daniel backed off, allowing Jack room to move, surprised at the older man's insistence and the normality of his voice and tone. A few seconds later, Jack was upright, his eyes clear and seemingly pain-free.

What had she done?

Apparently, Sam had the same thought. "Sir," she began tentatively, "are you sure this is a good idea?"

"I feel fine, Carter," Jack replied, his eyes scanning their surroundings, narrowing as his gaze encountered the darkness of the room and nothing more.

"But Jack," Daniel said, trying to make sense of what had just happened. "You have a concussion and you injured your ribs. Shouldn't you be taking it easy?"

The older man's eyes darkened as they met Daniel's gaze, but Daniel could see the concern in their depths. "All I know is that the pain is gone. Head feels fine and so do the ribs."

"But—" Sam began, only to be cut off by Jack,

"I don't know, Carter," he groused as he got his feet under him, easing the kinks out of his six-foot plus frame. He shrugged lightly. "It was that girl. She touched me and everything changed."

"The aliens that were here were telepathic," Daniel said, rising to his feet as well, trying to keep pace with Jack as he began a systematic search of the room, circling the platform slowly.

"Could she have been telepathic too?" Sam asked as she watched them walk around the room from her position on the platform.

"Probably, but there was something more, maybe even something else entirely," Daniel said, the possibilities spinning around in his head. "Jack, can I see your head?"

"What?" he asked, spinning on his heel, confusion flashing across his face. "What for?"

"I have a hunch," he said, stopping in front of his friend.

Jack looked at him strangely, as if another appendage had attached itself to Daniel's shoulder, but nodded his head. "Fine."

Daniel moved a half-step and tilted Jack's head so he could see. A quick rub of his fingers and dried blood flaked off onto Jack's collar, a tight smile finding a way to Daniel's face. "Just what I thought," he said, letting go and stepping back.

"What?" Jack grimaced, brushing the flakes of blood to the floor.

"The wound is completely healed. Somehow she has the ability to heal just with her touch."

"What?"

It was Sam who answered as she moved closer, her gaze focused on the site where the ugly gash had been. "It's like her nervous system is so sensitive, so highly responsive that she can actually feel our emotional and physical reactions. In a way, they become part of her and then she has the ability to simply get rid of them."

"So, what? She just touched me and she can just take away my concussion and my injuries?"

Sam nodded. "More or less, at least that's the thought."

Jack glanced between the two of them, and Daniel could see the thoughts spinning in Jack's mind. Standard procedure, though, quickly took over. "Well, before we get another delightful visit from the dynamic duo, how about we take a look around, see if we can find anything in his joint."

Sam nodded. "I haven't had the opportunity to do a thorough search yet, Sir, but so far there hasn't been much to see."

"Well," Jack said, his hand absently rubbing the top of his head causing his hair to stick out a little more than normal. "They had to go somewhere. Let's see what we can find."

*~*~*

Teal'c glanced up at the darkening skies, his demeanor matching the environment more and more as the minutes dragged on.

The first of the two search teams, SG-3, had arrived less than an hour after his initial report to General Hammond. Since then, SG-5 had also joined their efforts to discover the fate of his missing teammates.

Nearly four hours had passed and nothing had changed except the passage of time. Soon, twilight and then nightfall itself would be upon them and their search efforts would have to be abandoned.

"Teal'c?"

Focusing on the SG-3 team leader approaching him, Teal'c drew his darkening thoughts to a close. "Major Warren, do you have news?"

"Castleman spotted something in one of the far buildings and he's going to investigate with Peterson," he reported, his expression grim. "After I hear back from them I'm going to order the teams home. There's not much more we can do here tonight."

Even though the words struck deeply, Teal'c knew the truth in them. He inclined his head toward the man in a gesture of understanding and acceptance. His tone, however, told another story. "Very well, Major Warren."

"I don't like it any more than you do, but these ruins are dangerous and precarious even in the daylight."

"I concur," Teal'c said, but before he could continue Peterson's voice flashed over the radio.

"Warren, do you copy?"

"Here," the Major replied, his hand holding the call button down. "What did you find?"

"You wouldn't believe it, but I think we found SG-1's packs."

Teal'c's eyebrow rose as Warren 's eye's widened. "You think?"

"These are SG-1's packs without a doubt. We have Doctor Jackson's digital camcorder, three vests and backpacks—one complete with the Doctor's stash of chocolate bars, another with Colonel O'Neill's extra clips of ammunition, two P90s, three standard issue side arms, and the Colonel's knife."

"Any sign of SG-1?"

"Nothing, Sir. No tracks of any kind in the area either," Peterson answered. "It's as if all just appeared here out of thin air."

Teal'c's frown deepened.

"Bring everything back to the gate," Warren ordered after a moment's pause. "We're going back to the SGC and taking it with us. It's time to call it a night."

"We still have a little light left," Peterson protested, but Warren cut him off.

"Negative. You still have to hike from the far side of the city as is and I don't want you out there in the dark any longer than absolutely necessary. We'll continue this at first light."

"Yes, Sir. We'll be there in twenty. Peterson out."

Warren clicked off and turned to Teal'c, a grim expression on his face. "This doesn't look good."

"It does not," Teal'c said.

"We'll find them, Teal'c. I promise," Warren said, turning away. "We have to."

*~*~*

Jack O'Neill scrubbed a hand across his face as he prowled around the room looking for any clue, any indication as to where they might be. The distinct lack of lighting, however, made the search a tad bit more difficult.

They'd each taken a section of the room, carefully going over every inch, but so far, nothing had popped out at them.

That, in Jack O'Neill's book of cosmic possibilities, was a good thing

Although, not finding anything at all—including a way out of this charming place—was not a good thing either.

Stopping in his tracks, Jack sighed, his gaze catching the hint of a solid structure.

Was it getting lighter in here?

"Guys?" he called out, taking a step closer to what looked like a wall, his hands reaching forward.

"Jack?" Daniel's voice floated in from the left.

His stretched-out hand finally encountered cold stone. Wall. He had a wall. Glancing toward the left and the right, his gaze flowing over the dark marble, Jack swore he could see a break in the line. He began moving toward it.

"Carter? Daniel? Come here."

"Where exactly, Jack?"

"I don't know," he said, exasperation shading his tone. "Head toward the sound of my voice. I think I found something."

"What do you think it is?" Carter's voice was faint but clear.

"I found the wall and I think a doorway," Jack said, his fingertips brushing against the end of the wall. "Yep, there's definitely an opening here."

"Jack?"

"Yes, Daniel?"

"Why does it seem brighter over here?"

"I don't know. Does it?" Jack peered cautiously around the corner, catching the faint hint of a corridor with more rooms beyond.

"Yes, it does."

Jack shrugged, not caring that no one else saw the gesture. "Maybe they decided to turn up the lights for us. Try and make us more comfortable."

"But why, Sir?" Carter's voice was louder this time, hovering somewhere off to his right.

"I don't know, Carter. How about we ask the dynamic duo the next time we see them."

"I think I'll pass," Daniel said, the words loud in his ear.

"Don't do that!" Jack exclaimed, nearly jumping out of his skin, as he turned around to glare at the archeologist hovering less than a foot from his left shoulder.

"Do what, Sir?" Carter added, spinning him around in a complete circle.

"That," he said, narrowing his eyes at this second-in-command and the half smirk on her face. He looked past her, back toward the platform, and noticed that the room behind them had darkened until it was nearly black. The path ahead of them, however, had brightened noticeably.

"Curiousier and curiousier," he commented, his annoyance at his two teammates neatly forgotten.

"Huh?"

Jack glanced back toward Daniel, meeting his friend's perplexed gaze. Lifting his hand, Jack gestured down the corridor. "I think we should check this out."

"You think?"

"Seems like an idea, besides, I don't feel like sitting in the dark."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Carter glance around, her observations matching his own. "It seems like they want us to go this way."

"Either that or this facility is reacting to our presence, turning the lights on or off as needed," Daniel suggested.

Jack shrugged, stepping forward into the now lightened corridor. "I guess we'll see what's behind door number one."

*~*~*

Jack shivered, the cold of the hallways seeping past his BDUs and into his skin. They'd been walking for a while; investigating each of the rooms they passed. So far, they'd all been empty.

There was something about the Yalamanchi that Jack didn't like. It was more than merely disliking them for kidnapping them for no apparent reason. That, actually, didn't bother him that much. Come to think of it, that probably said something about him and the universe in general. But that was another story entirely.

But what was it, really? Was it their attitude? Their superiority complex? Was it the air of oppressiveness they brought with them? Or perhaps their bad taste in clothing?

Something about them just didn't sit right. Sooner or later he'd figure out what it was. He just hoped it was sooner, rather than later.

*~*~*

It was a little disconcerting to see Jack skulking around when an hour ago he'd been flat on his back with a concussion, bruised ribs, and who knows what other problems that he'd failed to mention in true Jack O'Neill style.

Not that he was complaining, mind you, but it was just a little strange.

Daniel sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as Jack ducked into yet another room. They'd been all the same—empty with minimal furniture, a chair here or there. Every now and then they'd find some kind of desk or table-like structure.

The echoing silence was unnerving.

He glanced at Sam who was standing in the doorway to the room, keeping an eye on Jack's six. While Daniel was supposed to be watching the hall, he found his eyes wandering further down the corridor where the color of the light noticeably changed. The bright white light they'd gotten used to was staying with them as they moved; turning on as they progressed further while the areas they passed faded into darkness once again.

There'd been no sign of their captors or that woman or any evidence that this facility had been inhabited by anyone else.

It was like someone had only begun to move in, but had never completed their task.

Casting a glance toward Sam who'd ducked a little further into the room to keep Jack in sight—apparently this room was a little larger than the rest—Daniel made up his mind. Moving silently he padded down the hall, the light brightening gradually as he walked.

It took about two minutes for Sam to notice he'd moved and, by then, he'd gotten a good head start.

"Daniel?" He heard her call, the word followed by a pregnant pause, her eyes obviously searching the corridor. She found him a few beats later. "Daniel!"

When he didn't respond, in his mind's eye he could see her turning to Jack and reporting what he'd done. Daniel knew the look of annoyance that was bound to cross Jack's face.

This whole methodical searching of every empty room was grating on his nerves.

He heard Jack's bellow a few seconds later. "Daniel! For crying out loud, why can't you listen for once?"

The pounding of footfalls accompanied the question, but Daniel didn't care. He'd found what was at the end of the corridor. Rounding the final corner, the hall opened into a cavernous room, its ceiling hidden in the darkness.

Pristine tables and cabinets surrounded him, many with what looked like various kinds of advanced technology sitting on top.

This was a laboratory. A huge laboratory.

But even as he tried to take everything in, his eyes were drawn toward the back of the room where several glass structures stood, their contents clearly evident, a label beneath each.

Lyssa

Rhodri

Daniel heard Sam and Jack stop short behind him as the room loomed into view. And he knew exactly when they found the tubes at the end. Sam inhaled sharply, while Jack muttered his usual, "Damn".

The faces of the Tok'ra were frozen in time, an expression of horror and pain etched deeply into their flesh.

But there was more.

Three more tubes, each with a single label. These, however, were empty, but for how long, Daniel did not know.

Carter

Jackson

O'Neill

"Well," Jack finally said, his words thick with resignation. "We found the Tok'ra."

*~*~*

The shrieking of the klaxon as it echoed off the concrete of the underground mountain complex could wake the dead. At least, that's what General George Hammond sometimes thought—especially when he had a headache.

And this one was a doozy.

Why was it that SG-1 had the knack for giving him migraines? The medical specialists claimed that gate travel was hazardous for your health, and when it came to the adventures—or misadventures—of SG-1, Hammond had to agree.

It was never simple, but then, what else did he expect from this command? He was dealing with aliens on a daily basis. Not exactly a lot of preparation to be had on Earth for this—unless of course you worked in Washington.

His rubber-soled shoes squeaked slightly as he hurried down the stairs to the control room. Master Sergeant Walter Harriman turned to face him, a finger pressed to his earpiece.

"It's SG-3 and 5, Sir. They're returning along with Teal'c."

"We have an iris code?" Hammond asked stepping up behind the Stargate Technician, his eyes scanning the console.

"Yes, Sir, receiving it now."

"Open the iris," he ordered, already moving to the side stairs that would take him into the corridor outside the Gate room. An Airman, seeing him approach, swiped his access card through the reader and the thick steel door slid open. Without pausing, Hammond walked in, stopping at the ramp as Major Warren and the rest of the search parties lumbered down from the Stargate's event horizon, Teal'c finally appearing as the wormhole closed with a snap-hiss behind him.

Warren paused at the bottom while Lieutenant Peterson and Major Castleman moved past carting several pounds of extra gear. "We didn't find them, Sir, but we did find their equipment." Warren tilted his head toward the men that had walked past. "It was all piled in one of the buildings, but there was no sign of SG-1 at all. No footprints, no nothing. It's like they vanished into thin air."

"That's not possible," Hammond huffed, unwilling to believe it.

Warren sighed, the sound rumbling in his chest. "Unfortunately in this case, it seems to be true. Sir, I'd like permission to continue the search at first light."

Hammond narrowed his eyes, his mind whirling in ten thousand different directions. His first instinct was to say yes, to let them continue in the morning, but there were other missions scheduled, other factors to consider. How much manpower could they devote to finding one team? That was always the issue, finding the balance, and it was never easy.

His heart told him to go, while his mind told him to stay.

Nodding slowly, the muscles along his jaw clenched. "Major, you can take SG-3 in the morning, but SG-5 has a mission scheduled for tomorrow that will not wait."

"Thank you, Sir. We'll do out best." Warren inclined his head and stepped around Hammond, leading his team out into the hallway and down to the infirmary.

Sighing, Hammond retraced his steps through the control room and back up to the briefing room, his feet pausing at the window overlooking the Gate room. His muttered words died instantly on the air.

"Jack, where the hell did you go?"

*~*~*

"I see you have discovered our lab," Kyran said, his voice coming from behind, floating on the air. The sound instantly turned SG-1 around and out of the corner of her eye Sam caught a flash of surprise race across the Colonel's face before it was gone, his expression fixed in an unreadable mask. How both of the aliens managed to appear again—and this time directly behind them—without a sound she'd never know. The fact that Colonel O'Neill didn't hear it made her even uneasier. The Colonel was someone you just couldn't sneak up on.

At least, that's what she'd always thought.

"Hard to miss," O'Neill quipped as he crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowing as he studied their captors.

"You are a most interesting species," Kyran continued, ignoring O'Neill's comment. "So determined. Resourceful, yet cautious. We did not expect you to reach this far into our facility so quickly. However, we are prepared for you. Only a few more tests are required."

"We've seen the results of your tests," O'Neill said and Sam turned her head, glancing to her commanding officer. His back had stiffened and the muscles along his jaw had tightened. O'Neill tilted his head a little, the gesture referring back to the glass tubes along the wall. "We've seen the results of your tests and we'd rather not stay."

"And we found who we were looking for," Daniel said, his voice still holding the remnants of his disgust. "Did they also have the opportunity to experience your tests?"

Nouri silently padded past them and Sam traced the smaller alien with her eyes, watching as he turned machines on throughout the room. Lights on a variety of surfaces illuminated, blinking in response to his touch.

"They were not fit subjects for our purposes," Kyran replied. "We did not kill them as you suspect. Their own imperfections were responsible."

"But if it weren't for you and this insane torture chamber they wouldn't be dead in the first place," O'Neill responded, his tone cold.

"Come," Kyran said, beginning to move toward SG-1. "Our time is short."

"Not going to happen," O'Neill said, but he, along with Daniel and Sam, instinctively took several steps back as the alien approached. Whatever the alien planned, Sam was positive that none of them wanted anything to do with it.

"But Colonel, have you not already guessed?" Kyran said, moving even closer. "Your cooperation is not optional."

A flash of light and Daniel and the Colonel vanished, leaving Sam alone.

"Now Captain," Kyran turned, fixing his pale eyes on her. "Shall we begin?"

*~*~*

In the space of a heartbeat, everything changed. Bright white walls switched with the darkness of a cavernous room. It took Daniel a minute to get his bearings, the change too fast for his mind to keep up with. Jack, however, was a lot quicker.

"God damn it!"

Jack's bellowed curse was not unexpected, especially since they found themselves transported to their original prison without a very important person—Sam.

They were standing on the carpeted platform, the light shining down directly on the raised area. Jack, of course, wasn't about ready to take being transported to another room lightly. After spinning around in an effort to get his bearings in the unlandmarked area, Jack headed off at full steam, apparently to retrace their steps once he managed to find the doorway again.

He didn't get far, however.

Daniel wasn't sure what happened at first, the sight of his friend flying backwards and landing in a heap was a little disconcerting.

"Jack!" Daniel exclaimed, rushing to the other man's side even as Jack was struggling to sit up, his right hand clutching his head.

"What the hell was that?"

Daniel glanced up, squinting his eyes to the edge of the light and the platform, trying to see something, anything that might have gotten in Jack's way.

There was nothing there.

"Are you okay?" he asked instead, helping Jack upright, watching as his friend grimaced.

"Does it look like I'm enjoying it?" Jack's eyes flashed a warning through the haze of his obvious pain.

"Not particularly, no."

Rubbing his head, Jack's gaze turned to his surroundings as he examined the same piece of air Daniel had only a few minutes ago. "There's nothing there."

"Apparently there is," Daniel said as he rose to his feet, walking over to the edge of the platform that Jack had attempted to step off of.

He paused for a moment and then extended a finger.

"Careful, Daniel," Jack warned climbing carefully to his feet.

"I'm always careful."

"Yeah, right. How about that time—"

"Jack," Daniel said, turning to flash the other man a look to be quiet. Jack rolled his eyes and the muscles in his jaw twitched. Daniel narrowed his eyes. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Headache. I'll live," Jack shrugged, inclining his head toward the archeologist. "Just be careful."

Daniel nodded after a long pause and turned back to his experimentation. Stretching out his arm, he moved forward, encountering no resistance—and his hand was out past the edge of the platform.

"Here, let me try again," Jack said, moving to Daniel's side. The archeologist stepped back, giving his friend more room, but Jack's experimentation didn't take long.

Jack's hand hit something hard.

"Damn," he said, pulling back the injured appendage. "That hurt."

"Hurt?"

"Like I got shocked. It's wearing off," he said, shaking his right hand. "At least it didn't toss me on my ass again."

"So," Daniel began, looking back and forth between Jack and the invisible force field. "It appears as if I'm allowed to go, but you're not."

"So it appears."

"I can go—"

"Ack! Not so fast Rock Boy," Jack tapped him on the shoulder. "What do you think you're going to do out there? You have no weapon and who knows where Carter is."

"I can find her or maybe find our stuff."

"While I do what? Sit on my backside? No, not going to happen."

"Why not? You'd rather have both of us sitting here waiting to see what else they've got planned for us?"

Annoyance wandered across Jack's face before it settled down into stubborn. "Yes."

"I thought you were trained to gather intelligence on a situation and then make an informed decision."

"Yes, Daniel," Jack said, patting the younger man on the shoulder. "I was. You weren't."

Daniel narrowed his eyes, squinting at Jack through his glasses. "So the years I spent gathering information from ancient civilizations and piecing together clues from hundreds of different sites and references is worth nothing?"

"That's different," Jack replied, turning away.

"How?"

Jack paused for a moment, his mouth hanging open. "This is a military operation," he finally spat out. "Working with rocks and old parchments is a lot different than hostile aliens."

Daniel nodded once. "I'll grant you your point there, but I've also faced Goa'uld System Lords. Snuck around by myself on a Goa'uld mothership without getting caught. I've learned a few things over the past couple of years. I can do this."

"Yeah, and you also managed to get yourself shot and nearly killed. Where'd you learn that from?"

"Watching you, of course."

Jack scowled at him, the silence stretching out between them.

"You know, Jack, by not making a decision you're making a decision."

A few more beats passed before Jack finally spoke again. "Fine. Go, but be careful."

"Of course."

"I mean it, Daniel. Be careful. We don't know what they want or what else they have planned. Just look and don't touch anything. And make sure you report back."

Daniel nodded at each point, relief settling over him. At least he'd be able to do something. Moving forward he approached the edge of the platform slowly, first extending his arms in front of him, but nothing inhibited his progress. One foot and half of his body followed next. Just as his second foot touched the ground, Jack yelled at him.

"Wait!"

Daniel turned, wondering what the problem was. He went to move closer, but soon found himself on his back several feet from Jack, a second light source following his movements.

"Daniel!" Jack called from his position on the platform, worry thick in his voice.

"I'm okay," he said, sitting up, shaking the fuzziness out of his head. Eyeing his friend, he offered a half-smile. "I guess I'm stuck out here."

"I told you it was a bad idea," Jack groused as Daniel climbed to his feet.

"Jack, we had no idea this would happen. There was no way to know," Daniel said, turning in a circuit, trying to remember where Jack had found the passage. It was difficult when there were no landmarks.

"I should have thought of it sooner. Then we wouldn't be in this mess."

Daniel turned back to his friend, offering a shrug and another smile. "Is that why you called me?

Jack nodded once, his mouth a thin line. "Not that it did much good."

"Don't worry. I'll be fine. Be back before you know it."

"You had better."

Daniel moved out into the darkness. It took him a while—and several progress reports—but he stumbled on the passage. "I found it," Daniel called, leaning in to make sure it was the same one. It was.

"Be careful. And, don't touch anything!"

Daniel smiled and stepped into the hallway.

He moved quickly, his feet retracing the steps they'd made hours before. It was eerily silent and Daniel's footfalls sounded loud to his ears. Easing around corners, he kept his eyes and ears opened, but there was nothing new to see. Nothing had changed.

Until he rounded the last corner.

*~*~*

Sam screamed when they broke one of her ribs.

She couldn't help it. It hurt.

Every breath became a fight, the pain radiating from many points: her wrists, her ribs, her throat, her head.

They hadn't asked her a single question, simply strung her up from the ceiling, all of her weight supported by her wrists, her feet a long ways from the floor.

She was going to die. How much more of this could she take? Right now, not much.

What they'd done with the Colonel and Daniel, they wouldn't say. She'd asked time and time again, but silence was her only answer.

Their pale gaze was unnerving, inhuman.

She groaned when the next blow hit, the air turning hard as it slammed into her mid-section, her breath forced from her lungs.

Another blow to her lower back followed, the pain radiating up and down her spine.

She coughed weakly, still trying to catch her breath, the beads of sweat running down the sides of her face.

"What do you want from me?" she finally asked, her voice weak, her words determined.

Kyran acknowledged her at last with a thin blue smile. "Nothing. You're doing just fine."

He turned back to one of his monitors while Nouri padded around the room, adjusting buttons and levers.

And blows rained down on her body.

How long it took for her to regain her senses this time around, she'd never know. Sam slowly raised her head, her muscles shaking with the effort. She scanned the room. Her alien tormentors were there, still working diligently away. But something was different.

Shaking her head slightly, the room spinning precariously around her, she tried to convince herself that she was seeing things. But, when she opened her eyes once again it was still there: a dark shape in the back of the room.

Kyran's words finally convinced her she was not imaging it.

"Doctor Jackson, please come in. We've been expecting you."

The archeologist's eyes widened, his already pale face losing several additional shades. He obeyed the alien's command, moving around the object he'd hidden behind, walking forward. His eyes, however, were not focused on the Yalamanchi.

They were linked with Sam's.

And then the world went away.

*~*~*

Jack paced in the confines of his prison. An hour had come and gone and the second was soon to run out. Daniel had been gone too long.

He shouldn't have let him go.

But even as he moved, skulking along the edge of the force field, grinding his teeth in frustration of his situation, of their entire situation, he knew that Daniel had been right. They needed the intel and if he was the only one to do it…

Jack sighed, rubbing a hand roughly across his face, wishing for the thousandth time that their positions had been reversed, that Daniel was safe in here instead of out there wandering the hallways alone.

He'd finally lost count of the number of times he kicked himself mentally for not thinking about the possible issues with the force field before Daniel stepped through. He should have known better.

His head was still ringing a little from his little flying lesson but he was too wired to sit. He'd tried it once—lasted about two minutes before he was up on his feet once again, prowling his carpeted prison.

A flash of light to his left stopped him in his tracks as he immediately turned to look, his eyes finding the sprawled and unmoving body of his second-in-command on the other side of the platform.

"Carter? Damn it, Carter, answer me!" he exclaimed, his feet finally moving, taking him to her side.

At least, that's what he thought.

The double whammy of hitting two force shields—one forward and one back—did not help his head any. And where that second shield came from was anyone's guess because it hadn't been there a minute ago. Another present from their captors apparently.

It took him a few minutes to push past the pain and the fog in his head, but he managed, untangling his limbs and crawling toward the center of the platform. He was careful this time, approaching slowly and with caution. Another hit like that and it would be lights out—at least for a while and that was not an option.

Carter, though, wasn't moving.

"Captain?" he called, stopped several feet from her, his hand finding resistance. It looked like she was still breathing, but she wasn't answering.

"Carter? Come on, Carter, don't do this." The tingling of the force field increased as he instinctively moved closer, trying to reach his teammate's side, forcing him to back off. Sitting back on his heels, he rubbed a hand across his face and around to the back of his neck trying to wipe away the headache he'd acquired.

Another flash of light distracted him, however.

He turned instantly, thinking that Daniel had reappeared but that was not the case.

The woman had returned.

She stood for a few moments, her gaze fixed solidly on Carter before she moved forward.

"Hey! What are you going to do?"

Jack climbed to his feet, getting as close to the force field as he could without actually coming in contact with it. He could feel the edge of it, the energy making his skin tingle.

The alien refused to answer, not even acknowledging his question. She moved closer, stepping up on the platform before she finally stopped at Carter's side, dropping to her knees, her pale eyes fixed intently on her target.

He stood watching as she extended her hands, resting them on Carter—one on her head, the other on her stomach.

She closed her eyes and the impossible happened.

The wounds on Carter's wrists transferred to the alien and then vanished.

The Captain's body visibly relaxed under her touch and Jack could nearly see the transformation taking place before his eyes.

Minutes later, she removed her hands from Carter. The alien's gaze met his across the platform while Carter began to move, her eyes fluttering as consciousness slowly returned.

And as quickly as she arrived, the alien was gone in a brilliant flash of light.

"Carter?" He called startled into action at the alien's abrupt departure. He needed to know Carter was all right, to make sure she had been healed like he had been.

The Captain moved again, groaning slightly, and he tried again.

"Captain Carter?" He paused again, waiting for her response, but it wasn't as forthcoming as he would have liked. "Damn it, Carter, answer me."

It took several more minutes before her eyes fluttered open, confusion settling on her features.

"Carter?"

"Sir?" He voice was quiet, but she answered, which he took for a good sign.

"Are you okay? What did they do to you?"

She rolled slowly to a sitting position, rubbing a hand across her face as if to brush away the cobwebs as she turned toward him. "Colonel…where—?"

"You're back where we started," Jack said, relief evident in his voice. "Are you sure you're okay? You didn't look so hot when you popped in."

Carter nodded slowly, confusion still on her face. "How'd I get here? The last thing I remember—" Her eyes widened and she sat up straighter, her eyes tracking around the room. "Daniel. I saw Daniel."

Jack's heart sank in his chest. Could things get worse? "Daniel went looking for you, to gather intel."

"Sir? Daniel doesn't—"

"I know," he said cutting her off, knowing exactly what path her mind was heading down. "He insisted and there was one other…issue."

"Issue?"

Jack sighed, glancing at the carpeted floor and deciding that it looked far more comfortable than standing on his feet. After arranging himself as best he could on the floor—his knees drawn up toward his chest with his arms wrapped around them—he finally continued, aware that Carter's eyes had been on him the entire time he stalled. "I'm stuck."

"Stuck?"

"Stuck as in trapped, caught, cornered, detained, netted, ensnared, hooked, bagged, nabbed. Our hosts apparently don't want me wandering off for some reason or another and decided to put up some kind of a force field. Gives a nasty shock so I'd avoid it if I were you."

Carter, of course, immediately moved closer to him, approaching the shield he knew stood between them.

"Carter—" he warned, but the word caught in his throat as she reached the shield. She yelped and held her hand for a moment before she shook it just as Daniel had earlier.

"I see what you mean," she said, her eyes looking for any evidence of the shield she could feel.

"It let Daniel out, but when he tried to get back in it tossed him on his ass." Jack shrugged, letting out a deep breath. "We didn't exactly have a whole lot of options here, Carter, and I wasn't in any position to stop him."

"But, Colonel, do you know what they're going to do to him?"

Jack glanced up, looking straight out into the darkness beyond the lighted platform. "If the wounds I saw on you are any indication of what they're going to do to him…" He sighed again, feeling the muscles along the base of his jaw tighten.

"I didn't mean that the way to sounded," she immediately protested and Jack could imagine the look that had probably settled on her face.

"I know you didn't, Carter, and trust me, I was coming up with worse case scenarios long before you dropped in," he said waving a hand in the direction of the ceiling. "It's just…"

"Frustrating."

Jack turned toward his second-in-command. "Extremely."

"You know," she began, her blue eyes narrowed at him, knowing. "You don't have to feel guilty about it. He would have gone with or without your permission."

"It's my job to feel guilty about it, Carter. He's a civilian for crying out loud."

"But he also knows what he's getting into…generally."

Jack rolled his eyes as he huffed and turned away. He wasn't surprised when she spoke a few moments later. What she said, however, took him by surprise.

"They didn't ask me anything."

He could feel his eyebrow rise in response, his thoughts moving forward at a hundred miles an hour, the possible scenarios getting worse by the second. There were a few things he'd learned over the years about situations like these. He'd found that usually when your captors don't ask you questions it's for one of two reasons—either they already know the answers or they aren't interested in them. And in either case, neither of those scenarios was particularly pleasant.

"You know, Carter," he began, turning to watch his second-in-command prowl around her side of the platform, taking each step slow. "You're not exactly helping with the whole trying to make me feel less guilty part of this conversation."

"Sorry, Sir," she replied, glancing over her shoulder as she paused mid-step. Her body continued moving—until it hit another force field, sending her onto her butt.

"Carter, you okay?" he asked while she shook off the shock, her eyebrows drawing together as she looked for the offending invisible shield.

"Fine, sir, but it looks like I'm not going anywhere either."

"Frustrating, isn't it?"

"Very."

Jack sighed and tried to ease some of the tightness in his back, the frustration of his current predicament more than just a passing fad. His words, while not loud, were heartfelt.

"Well, this sucks."

*~*~*

Daniel didn't think it could get any worse.

Padding through the silent hallways he'd thought several times about turning around and going back to Jack. He'd managed to talk himself out of it, but each time it had gotten harder and harder to do.

Right now he wished he had listened to that quiet nagging doubt.

He'd found Sam; the sight of her suspended and obviously in pain had not been pleasant. It had taken every ounce of his strength to hold down the revulsion he'd felt.

And then Sam suddenly disappeared, a brief flash of light illuminating the room. After a momentary disorientation, he found himself hanging heavily, his arms above his head, his body's weight causing the already bloodstained cuffs to dig into the flesh of his wrists.

They started almost immediately, the blows pounding from every conceivable location, forcing the breath from his body.

Every time they paused, he'd drag in great gulps of air, his frame shuddering and shaking from the abuse. But even as winded and pain wracked as he became, questions continued to fall from his lips—even after they grew in size and split, the metallic taste of blood on his tongue.

They didn't answer him. At least not at first.

After they managed to rip the fifth scream from him, Kyran finally looked up and saw him. Not that they hadn't looked before, but for some reason, something had made him finally pay attention to the human dangling from the ceiling of their lab.

"Why do you insist on questioning us?"

"It's…our nature," Daniel replied, grateful for the reprieve, however brief, that he'd gotten. His head drooped down onto his chest, too tired to pull it upright. "It's what we do."

"What is your race called again?"

It took a moment for the question to register, his attention wandering as he tried to push some of the pain away. Forcing his right eye to open so he could see through the swelling, he tilted his head to gaze at Kyran. Nouri had moved to the back of the room and was fussing with some of the machines. Apparently technical difficulties permitted conversation. "We're known by various names, but the most widely known would be Tau'ri."

"But you are different from your companions."

Daniel offered a single head-nod in response before he found his breath to speak. "We're all different. Part of our genetic make-up."

Kyran shook his head, moving forward another step, his pale eyes glistening oddly. "You and your companions are more different than you know."

He turned briefly toward the rear of the room as if the very motion helped him to hear what his companion was silently saying. A thin smile graced Kyran's lips. A flick of his wrist and the edge of his sleeve flew up to reveal a small device strapped to his forearm.

And then, it began again.

When the second rib broke, Daniel thankfully passed out, but not before offering up a silent apology to his friend.

'I'm sorry, Jack. I should have listened to you after all.'

*~*~*

Sam was bored.

At first it hadn't been bad. She and the Colonel had talked, mainly about missions, about some of the things they'd seen and done over the past two years. There wasn't anything confidential or classified, just reminiscing about their experiences. The Colonel had a good memory and he saw everything, even what he wasn't supposed to see—something she hadn't realized until now.

But now, nearly two hours after she'd been returned, they'd run out of things to say, each absorbed in their own thoughts and worries. The not knowing was the worst.

Colonel O'Neill had started pacing about twenty minutes ago, prowling the edge of his prison, each step barely concealing the pent up emotion running through his frame. Each time he strode by her position only emphasized the frustration she was feeling. For him though, it had to be quadrupled.

She could see the guilt lying heavily on him—the quick short motion of his limbs, the abrupt turns when he reached the corner of his cell, the tense muscles in his back and jaw, the ramrod straight posture, the near constant muttering.

He was not a happy camper. But then again, neither was she.

Daniel was the civilian. He wasn't supposed to be tortured. It wasn't in the job description—at least not typically. When it came to SG-1, things were always a little off center.

Sam sighed as she glanced up from her seated position as the Colonel prowled past. "Sir—"

"Not now, Carter," he growled without a pause in his step.

"He'll be okay."

O'Neill huffed, but refused to stop moving. "As good as you were, eh?" The look she shot her was full of anger mixed with frustration and guilt. His words dripped with sarcasm, the Colonel's own defense mechanism at its highest level, and something to which she'd grown accustomed. "Hope Little Miss Fix-it is taking house calls cause he's probably going to need it."

"He's stronger than you think, Sir," she began, but he turned sharply and strode to the edge of the platform where he stopped, glaring down at her.

"I know what kind of man he is, Carter. And no one should have to go through anything like this—especially if there's something I can do to stop it from happening."

Sam began to move, as if to rise to her feet to face off against him, but thought better of it. She was frustrated and his pacing was getting on her nerves, but it didn't make much sense for her to antagonize him. She sighed instead, breaking his gaze.

O'Neill echoed her sigh a few beats later, his mumbled reply tossed over his shoulder as the pacing began anew. "Not that there's anything we can do about it anyway."

She shook her head, biting her tongue. There was no point in answering him, especially since the comment wasn't aimed at her. Besides, he did enough damage beating himself up, why add to his misery or to the forcefulness of his pacing?

Back and forth.

Forth and back.

She wished he would stop.

A muffled thump answered her prayer—but not in the way she wanted. The Colonel was sprawled on the floor, slumped over, partially held up by the flickering force field along the far edge of the platform.

And he wasn't getting up.

"Colonel?" She scrambled to her feet, leaning as close to the shield as she could, trying to see him better, but the view didn't change. A bright flash of light distracted her, pulling her attention away from O'Neill and to the pile of Daniel that was on the floor at the far end of the platform.

"Daniel?" Glancing back and forth between her friends, her body moving closer to the younger man, taking in his bloodied wrists, the welts and bruises already a dark shade of purple under his waxen skin, blood and sweat leaving trails on his face where the drops had traveled.

The tingling of the force shield against her skin warned her not to press forward, but it did not stop her from worrying.

She glanced back toward the Colonel and her stomach twisted inside her gut. The sparking of the shield gave him a strange aura as he leaned against it, as it supported his unconscious frame.

From her growing familiarity with alien technology and her knowledge of energy fields, any extended contact with such a device—such as what the Colonel was currently experiencing—was not good. The human body was only designed to withstand so much. And Sam feared that if she wasn't able to move the Colonel away from the energy barrier he might not survive.

What had happened? One minute he was walking and the next he was on the ground, unconscious, his pacing a quickly fading memory. Could a shield have sprung up in his path, forcing him back? But that didn't make any sense.

Or did it?

Daniel had appeared only seconds later. Could their captors have sectioned off another area of the platform to give Daniel his own cell?

And what if the Colonel had walked into the force shield? The intensity of his forward momentum might have caused the shield to push him back with the same intensity, forcing him into the second shield.

And this might not have been the first time he'd been thrown by it. What if the effects were cumulative? He had been rubbing the back of his head and his temple when he thought she wasn't looking.

Damn it! Why didn't that man mention anything?

Her anger, however, didn't give her any advantage. Both of her teammates were unconscious and neither looked good.

A brief flash of light blinded her momentarily and when she opened her eyes once again, trying to blink away the "flash effect" lingering in them, the female alien was standing outside their prison, her face serene, but her movements hesitant as she glanced between the two unconscious men.

"Please," Sam said, her voice a breathy whisper drawing the woman's gaze. "Heal them, please. They need your help."

Holding Sam's gaze for a few beats more, she finally broke it, moving toward the Colonel. The field shimmered as she passed through, becoming unseen again a moment later. The technology these aliens possessed…Sam sighed. In more ideal circumstances she'd love to get her hands on it.

Watching carefully, Sam moved slowly toward the back corner of her cell, as close to the Colonel as she could get. She continued to cast worried glances toward Daniel, but the archeologist hadn't moved.

The alien kneeled down next to the Colonel, her head tilting to the side as she examined him, her gaze never leaving his still form.

But when the alien didn't move, Sam nearly tore her hair out in frustration. Why wasn't she helping him? Why was she just sitting there staring at him?

"Please do something," Sam said, the frustration in her voice thick. "That shield is going to kill him if you don't turn it off. Do something…please."

A few beats passed and Sam thought that the woman hadn't heard her, but then she moved, pushing up her sleeve, her fingers flying over the device strapped to her forearm.

And the shield the Colonel was leaning on vanished. He would have rolled onto the floor if it were not for the woman's quick movement, catching him and settling him carefully on the platform, his head lolling to the side.

And for a brief moment it looked like he wasn't breathing.

Had she waited too long?

Placing her hands on the Colonel, one on his head and one on his chest, the woman closed her eyes and bent her head. It only took a few seconds before she moved again, rising to her feet as she walked away from the Colonel and toward the archeologist, the shield between the Colonel and Daniel shimmering as she stepped through.

That was it?

Sam's eyes raced back to her commanding officer to find his confused gaze linking with hers. "Sir?"

He blinked twice before the word registered in his mind. "Carter?"

"Colonel, are you okay?"

"Headache," he said, pushing himself to a seated position, his eyes tracking slowly around the room before they landed on the alien, a strange expression crossing his face. It was gone, though, before she could identify it, his face hardening into the mask he usually wore.

She just barely caught his muttered words, however. "…wasn't a dream."

"Sir?" she asked, her forehead furrowing a little. The Colonel though ignored her question, directing the attention to their teammate.

"What happened to Daniel?"

But before she could answer him, a sudden flash of light illuminated the room and she ducked her head, trying to shield her eyes from the brightness. Once she looked up, however, the Colonel was already gone.

Sam sighed, letting her breath out in one explosive whoosh.

How much longer could this go on? How much longer could they last?

Shaking her head, she moved to the far end of her prison, watching as the alien breathed life back into the archeologist, as his wounds slowly faded from his body.

Several minutes later the alien stopped, removing her hands from Daniel as he opened his eyes, confusion deeply etched on his face.

"Daniel?" Sam probed, trying to see around the woman who had not moved, her own movements slow. It appeared as if healing them had drained her, sapped her energy.

Then why did she do it? Why did she heal us?

"I'm okay, Sam," Daniel said, his words clear, his tone thoughtful. He turned his head toward her, catching her gaze. "You? The last time I saw you—"

Sam nodded. "I know. I'm fine. She healed me as well."

Daniel, though, observed something more—the emptiness behind her. "Jack?"

Shaking her head, she watched fear enter Daniel's eyes. He knew what was in store for the Colonel. "They took him." Fastening her eyes on the alien, Sam was surprised she hadn't left, that she hadn't flashed away immediately after she'd completed healing Daniel. "Why are you doing this to us?"

The alien's eyes showed her exhaustion, her pale features even more transparent than before, but she met Sam's gaze without blinking, unfazed by the anger emanating from Sam. "It is our nature," she replied, her voice solemn, yet very different than the other aliens, holding a more musical quality.

Sam shook her head, disbelief in her voice. "Torturing people is in your nature?"

"Sam," Daniel said, gesturing for her to calm down a little as he slowly rolled to a seated position. The ridge between his brows deepened as he focused on the alien sitting before him. Sam could see the tension and the anger in his frame, but he held it in check. All she could think of was what was probably happening to her commanding officer on the other side of the facility. As much as she wanted to push it out of her mind, she couldn't, especially after seeing how Daniel had fared.

The archeologist, however, seemed to have a much more lenient and forgiving frame of mind. The female alien wasn't the one torturing them. She was healing them, making them better. Maybe that was how Daniel could separate the two.

It still wasn't easy.

"This is a scientific outpost, isn't it?"

The alien nodded once before she elaborated, clearly encouraged by Daniel's non-aggressive tone. "Yes. We have only just entered this galaxy."

"But this outpost is within a city of the Ancients. Is this section," Daniel gestured to the room around them, "yours? I remember seeing two forms of writing in the room with that crystal."

She shook her head. "Not entirely, no." She paused for a moment and Sam was unsure if she would continue. "It was first the possession of the people whom you call the Ancients, and then it was our peoples' when we passed through this galaxy. We have only just returned. The crystal provides access to these chambers from the city above."

As nice as that information was, it wasn't the time or the place. They were trapped here and the Colonel was being tortured for information. "But what is it that you want? Knowledge? Technology? Why exactly did you kidnap us?"

"We are explorers and scientists. We seek only to learn and to better ourselves. Is that not the same with you?"

"We do things a little differently," Daniel said, always the diplomat.

"I see," the woman said, her expression curious and thoughtful.

"Why did you cure the Colonel before Kyran took him away?" Sam asked breaking the silence that had grown between them.

The alien tilted her head, looking at Sam intently. "Do you believe us to be uncaring? We do not desire your deaths. On the contrary, we wish all of our subjects to live."

"But the Tok'ra—" Daniel began, only to be cut off by the alien.

"Were weak. You, however," she said, her gaze taking in the two of them, "are strong. There is a strength within you which we find most encouraging, most promising."

"So, you'll let us go when this is all over?"

A thin blue smile accompanied the alien's reply. "Of course. A way out is always provided."

*~*~*

The world around Jack shimmered and shifted. A cold concrete floor replaced the warmth of the carpeted platform. The sight of Daniel lying unmoving morphed into two towering aliens and hard shades of black, white, and gray.

It was a strange contrast, his brain protesting strenuously as he tried to wrap his thoughts around the concept. The aliens, however, decided that only seconds were needed for him to adjust.

"Colonel O'Neill, we are glad you were able to join us." Kyran's pale eyes gazed down at him, their color only broken by the small blue veins that ran through them.

Jack's mouth turned up in a humorless smile. "I don't think I had any choice in the matter."

Kyran didn't answer, instead moving to the other side of a table, leaving Jack where he sat on the floor. Shaking his head, trying to clear out some of the cobwebs, Jack climbed to his feet, his eyes narrowing as he got a closer look at the laboratory in which he found himself.

It was different than before. The gadgets and gizmos were all turned on, their lights blinking a dizzying array of colors. A single pair of shackles hung from the ceiling, their pristine white color marred by the reddish-brown streaks of blood.

The blood of his teammates.

Jack's stomach clenched, his jaw hardening as his eyes continued to scour the room. Kyran and his cohort were busy with their machines, ignoring him entirely.

Why did they bring him here?

Pushing down his frustration and revulsion, his eyes continued to track around the room, the gleaming metal surfaces screaming cleanliness, a stark contrast to their real purposes.

Here, these aliens tortured people for fun and games, for pleasure, while proclaiming their own superiority. Since when was the quest for knowledge paved with the bodies of the dead—or the dying?

His anger and frustration continued to grow, building up from the inside. They had to get out of here. After so much inaction, after seeing the results of their experiments on his friends and teammates, he could finally do something.

And Jack was not one to stand around gawking.

With the recent Superbowl victory still fresh in his mind, Jack took a page out of the Broncos' playbook. He wasn't as thick as their linebacker, but he knew he had the muscle to get the job done. And, as long as he didn't break his neck doing it, they'd all go home happy campers.

At least, that was the plan.

With a start to make Mike Shanahan proud, Jack launched himself at Kyran, a primal growl rumbling from deep within his chest. In all honesty—and with the way things had been going with the sudden appearance of force fields—he didn't think he'd make it. But, on the oft chance that he did, Jack wanted to make sure it counted.

He managed to avoid the sharp edges of the table—at first. It was only after making contact with Kyran did he realize that he'd made it, tackling the alien in one fell swoop. They landed hard, Jack on top, several machines crashing to the floor as the tables were shoved.

In a tangle of arms and legs Jack tried to keep the upper hand, managing several good shots before Kyran started blocking the blows. But even as he worked Kyran over, Jack tried to keep Nouri in view, knowing that his intervention could happen at any moment.

If he got just a little closer…

A brief glance toward the approaching alien and Jack was on his feet again, leaving a bruised and slightly bloodied Kyran behind, drops of blue blood drifting down the alien's chin.

His right hip skimmed an unmoving table, but he ignored the pain, anger fueling his forward charge. If he could take care of these two he'd be able to find a way out of this hellhole and get his team to safety. They could go home.

He had to get this right. Their lives depended on it.

Nouri, though, was quicker than he looked—and he was prepared. His hand flew to the device on his forearm, his fingers flowing over the controls. And without clenching a single hand, Nouri made the air around Jack harden and fists made of air struck him.

Pushing forward through sheer force of will, Jack made it several feet before the blows became too much, too strong, too many, too often.

Crashing to his knees, his body rolled, hitting one of the cabinets, the edge digging into his side. Pain flared and through the encroaching darkness and the maelstrom of blows, he heard a voice telling them to stop, that it was too soon, that more time was needed.

A final blow to his chin forced his head back into the metal cabinet and he knew no more.

*~*~*

"A way out?" Daniel asked, his head still a little fuzzy from before. He felt fine otherwise, the pain from his injuries long since gone, but it seemed as if something was pressing down on him. It was strange, peculiar, but non-intrusive—more annoying than anything else.

Of a more vital concern, though, was the substantial lack of Jack. He'd noticed that Jack was missing several minutes ago, the silent communication he sent Sam only emphasizing his dread. They'd taken Jack and unfortunately, there was nothing that he could do. Daniel knew that Jack could handle himself, but it didn't make it any easier. He knew what was in store for the other man.

Information, however, was something they could always use.

Pushing the dark thoughts to the back of his mind, Daniel tried to concentrate on the lithe alien seated a few feet from him, her pale skin nearly translucent in places.

Her eyes regarded him briefly, her head tilting to the side. Instead of elaborating, however, she posed another question. "Why do you worry?"

Daniel narrowed his eyes, trying to decipher her meaning, her intent. "Worry?"

"About him."

Daniel's eyebrows rose in surprise, his gaze meeting Sam's across the platform, his response hesitant. How could she have known… "About Jack?"

"Your species has a unique fixation regarding other members of its…team. Is that something that is learned or inborn?"

His jaw opened twice before he finally found his voice. "It's part of who we are. It's what we do…but," Daniel paused searching for the right way to say what he was thinking. It was a little crazy, but they were aliens. "Can you read my mind?"

Surprise flashed across the alien's face before settling back into the emotional mask to which they'd grown accustomed. "Not in the way I believe in which you refer. Strong emotions are primarily what I can sense from you and your companion," she replied, gesturing to Sam. "But from those emotions I can draw conclusions based on what I observe." She tilted her head slightly, a brief glimpse of pain screwing up her features, before it was gone. Her muttered words barely reached his ears: "You must stop. It's too soon. I need more time."

And even before Daniel could respond to ask her what she meant she was gone, the bright white light filling the room, leaving Daniel and Sam blinking rapidly, trying to clear their eyes, with nothing more to do but wait.

*~*~*

They came to him in the darkness, whispering sounds and syllables into his ears.

Trapped within his mind, Jack pushed and shoved, struggling to get out from under the suffocating shadows. Like a swimmer trapped in a riptide, he knew not which way was up, but continued on nonetheless needing to once again feel the air against his skin.

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and he swore that it would tear through the protective covering of his ribs and flesh if it got any stronger.

Was he dead? Was he alive? His thoughts were fleeting, his hands desperate to hold onto anything tangible, but thoughts and words slid through his fingers, drifting out of reach, mocking him as he gasped for air, as he fought against the tide trying to pull him even further under.

The last thing he remembered was pounding Kyran into the ground and then launching himself at Nouri. But he'd never made it. They'd stopped him in his tracks, even the very air turning against him.

Unconsciousness was something he'd grown used to over the years. In all honestly, he'd had no choice, but to get used to it. But now, something was different. Was he conscious? Unconscious? Somewhere in between? Were they speaking to him? For a brief moment he stopped his frantic struggles to claw to the surface, resigning himself to coasting on the currents swirling around and through him.

"…must stop…hasn't….need time…"

"…scans were complete…"

"…different…"

"…know that to be true…"

"…my responsibility…learn to trust…"

Nothing made any sense to him but he kept at it, concentrating on the sensation of the words themselves. He could nearly picture them, see them in his mind, as they stood in the lab staring at his limp and languid body as it hung from the shackles in the ceiling. The woman had joined them once again, her skin even more translucent than before.

And they were arguing.

The woman's body was stiff with anger, her movements sharp. "…said this was going to strictly be a reconnaissance mission...that we were only here to observe. This has gone farther than that."

Kyran's tone was icy. "The directive was clear and this is within the bounds of those orders. Should you not be resting instead of questioning us?"

"This concerns me directly. Would you rather the experiments fail?"

"Leave us, Danae. This does not concern you. Prepare yourself." Kyran gestured to Nouri who stepped toward one of the consoles, his gaze finally resting on Jack's dangling form.

It only took a moment, but Jack could feel the surprise radiate off of the small alien.

"Kyran!" he called. Nouri's thoughts were nearly frantic. "The Tau'ri!"

All eyes converged on Jack and before he could prepare himself a wash of pain screamed through the link. And just before the room blinked out, he heard Kyran's final words.

"Prepare the subject."

*~*~*

The metal under him was cold, the chill creeping up into his shoulders, while his head pounded in rhythm with his heartbeat. For the briefest of moments, Jack thought he was still unconscious, but the gentle flow of air across the exposed skin of his forearms and stomach immediately set him straight.

His eyelids were heavy, but he forced them open, his vision blurry. Blinking helped, but only slightly.

Things had changed again. He could see two forms directly in front of him, fiddling with levers and dials, ignoring him completely.

Now, if only he could connect his mind with his body once again, they might have a chance on getting out of this hellhole.

That, however, was proving to be a problem on a larger scale.

He was in a chair of sorts, reclining backward, his head sitting snuggly between two metal pieces. After several seconds and a few experimental tugs, he discovered that his wrists were fixed to the arms of the chair, while metal straps wrapped around his ankles, firmly securing his long limbs. As it was, he barely had the energy to lift a finger let alone struggle to free himself.

Time must have passed because Kyran suddenly appeared hovering over him, a thin smile gracing the alien's blue lips. He regarded Jack for a long moment, the two linking gazes, neither backing down.

And without moving his lips, Jack could hear him speak.

"You have surprised us, Tau'ri. We did not expect to find such potential in such a lowly race."

Jack rolled his eyes, his face screwing up in a grimace, but Kyran was not finished.

"Time has done much to change you since we last passed through this galaxy. There is much to be done. Much we can learn. I believe we should begin before we lose our window of opportunity. Don't you agree?"

Jack narrowed his eyes as Kyran turned away, his rage burning from within. The words he pushed out through clenched teeth. "How can you even consider yourselves better when you kidnap people, experiment on them, and then kill them? What does it prove? That you can? That you have the power? Who died and made you god?"

Kyran paused, looking over his shoulder toward Jack, answering Jack out loud. "Isn't there a saying on your world about god helping those who help themselves?"

For the briefest of moments, shock rampaged through Jack's mind. Where had he learned that expression? Daniel? Sam? Him? The thought of these aliens having access to his mind and their propensity to read it without hesitation was even more unsettling than the torture he knew was coming.

As if reading his mind, Kyran's thin smile broadened, an icy glimmer shining in his eyes. "I believe this is the best way to help ourselves, so I assume we have his permission."

Before Jack could reply, Kyran raised his hand, gesturing toward Nouri. A buzzing filled the air around his head and pain immediately spiked—one spot on each side of his head. His shriek of agony was cut off mid-cry, his vocal chords no longer cooperating, his mouth hanging open in a now-silent scream.

As the pain eased, Jack could hear Kyran in his mind. "Now, isn't that better? Your cries would wake the dead and we'd have none of that. The Tok'ra worked hard and deserve their rest. Don't you agree?"

With the anguish still echoing through his mind, Jack tried to put together a cohesive thought, tried to fight back in the only way that he had left—his mind. Kyran's laugh merely filled the void.

"And as for that," the alien began, his voice taunting. "I can't have my subject talking back to me, now can I? So we've already taken care of that irritating problem with a small injection. While it allows you to continue to hear Nouri and I, it does not permit you to respond to us as you were attempting to do. It's much better this way, don't you agree?"

Nouri's no-nonsense statement only increased Jack's dread. How long would this go on? "We are prepared for insertion number two."

"Proceed."

It wasn't any better than number one. In fact, it was probably worse. Sweat popped out along his hairline, running down his face, his muscles tensing under the onslaught, his harsh, heavy breathing the only sound he could make.

Needles were never good things and Kyran's explanation about needing tissue samples for his research made little difference to Jack. Although they took samples from various places on his body—his arms, legs, too many to count in his abdomen—they seemed overly interested in his head, his brain to be specific.

And that worried him. He really didn't have any to spare.

He thought the pain would get better, that he would get used to it, but that wasn't the case. Sometimes it seemed like it only got worse.

He lost count of the number of samples they took, the number of times they jabbed him, the pain blending into a constant symphony. But when they stuck the needles up his nose and into his brain, Jack reached his limit.

When he slowly came back to his senses, the needles were gone. He was lying on his back on something cold and flat, a table or something. How much time had passed? It could have been days or hours, Jack couldn't tell and he didn't care.

He hurt.

Every bone in his body and every hair on his head ached. His throat was sore, a cough threatening to explode if the tickle didn't go away soon, and his chest hurt. He tried to shift a little, but pain flared in his mid-section and he groaned, the sound barely reaching his own ears. When Kyran's words popped into his head, Jack didn't have enough energy to be surprised. When would this end?

"I'm glad you've decided to join us once again. And to answer your question, soon."

Jack cracked open an eye and found himself staring into Kyran's pale blue ones and cringed as the dim light sent flares of pain into his already throbbing head.

"We are into the final stages of our tests and, if things go as planned, you should be feeling the effects shortly."

"Effects?" Jack whispered, the only response he could bring himself to utter as a cough began deep in his chest, pain radiating out. He rolled onto his side despite the agony of every movement and pulled his feet up toward his chest.

Kyran's thin blue smile broadened. "Perhaps we will not have to wait as long as we originally anticipated. But it does seem as if our original conclusions were correct in this matter."

Jack licked his lips, the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. "What?"

"You may wish to supplicate any supreme being that you hold dear while you still have the time—not that it will make any difference in the final outcome—but perhaps you may find peace in the last few moments of your life."

"I thought you said…wouldn't kill us."

"But Colonel, I'm not going to kill you. This you can blame on your parents and your ancestors. Those were the ones who have caused your ultimate downfall. We just…helped along the inevitable."

Jack closed his eyes as another wave of pain broke over him, refusing to watch as Kyran walked away from him. His body was dying. He knew it. He could feel it and the alien's words only confirmed his initial suspicion. The pain in his head coupled with the sharp stabbing sensation all over his abdomen were only the tip of that iceberg. And he knew it was only going to get worse.

Hopefully, he'd miss the good part. Maybe he'd be unconscious by then.

Knowing his luck though, he'd be fully aware until the very end.

This was so not part of the plan.

*~*~*

The scratching of his pen against the paper was loud in the early morning stillness. This was always a good time for him. It gave him the chance to get his day in order and usually featured a one-on-one chat with his second.

Hammond sighed. That wasn't going to happen this morning.

Dropping his pen on the desk, he leaned back, rubbing his free hand across his face. He'd stayed on base last night, telling himself that it was easier than going home. In reality, he was hoping that SG-1 would pull that proverbial rabbit out of their hats once again, that somehow they'd show up in the wee hours of the morning.

It hadn't happened. As much as he'd hoped and prayed the night had come and gone, the worry leaving him tossing and turning in his on-base quarters. Finding no rest, he'd left sleeping behind, deciding instead to use the quiet time to get himself together for the long day that was ahead of him. The barest hint of another's presence caused him to raise his head, his eyes coming to rest on the silent Jaffa standing hesitatingly outside his office door.

"Teal'c?" Hammond waved the warrior forward. "Are you alright, son?"

Teal'c stepped into the room, his footfalls silent against the concrete. "Indeed, General Hammond, I am fine."

"You're worried."

The statement hung in the air between them before the Jaffa acknowledged it with the briefest of nods. "Our search of the Ancients' city was nowhere near complete before we were forced to return to the SGC. I am prepared to lead another team to begin again."

Hammond raised his hand, gesturing for Teal'c to slow down. "Now, hold it, son. We need to think things through carefully before we send additional personnel to the planet. Most of the teams are already off-world on other assignments and the majority of the ones on base have missions departing within the next twenty-four to thirty-six hours. There's not one man or woman in this command that we can afford to spare."

"We cannot afford to leave SG-1 behind."

Hammond held back a sigh. As soon as Teal'c and the SG teams had returned last night, he knew this conversation was going to occur. He just wished it were after he'd gotten the chance to think things through a little more fully. "Teal'c," he began, choosing his words carefully. "While I agree with you in principle, there are other factors to consider before I can send another team to the planet on a search and rescue mission. I should have an answer for you, either way, within the next two hours. And, if I remember correctly, the sun doesn't rise locally on that planet for another hour and a half."

Teal'c inclined his head toward Hammond. "Very well, General Hammond. I shall await your decision."

Watching him as the Jaffa walked out of his office, Hammond couldn't help but be touched by the respect and devotion the alien showed to the rest of SG-1. They'd only been together for a short time, but the bonds they'd developed were stronger than many he'd seen during his entire life.

One thing was sure: Teal'c never did anything halfway. And Hammond was convinced that even if it took him the entire two hours, he'd figure out how to send another rescue team back to the planet.

It was just a matter of a little creative maneuvering. And as a General in charge of a super secret project, tap dancing was only one of his many talents.

*~*~*

His arms were leaking.

Curled up as he was in a fetal position it was hard to ignore the wet feeling on his arms. And it was accompanied by the drops he could feel trickling down his bloated stomach and the ones racing down his back to pool under his half-naked form.

He'd ventured a peek a little while ago when he thought he'd gotten used to the pain and the agony of a body that was falling apart at the seams.

The shooting pain in his eyes seemed to make the unpleasant sight even worse. There were red streaks on his yellowing skin. And the parts that weren't yellow had already turned a deep reddish-black, the rash dipping beneath his BDU pants. Even without seeing, he knew it was the same everywhere else. He could feel it from the dryness of the skin to the tightness where it pulled with each breath, subtle movement, and muscle spasm.

This didn't look like something that good old Doc Frasier could fix.

Not that he thought he would make it home in one piece.

As he felt another drop ooze out, Jack tried not to groan, the pain in his chest, his head, and his abdomen growing with each passing moment.

He just hoped that Daniel and Carter were okay. At least they might make it home—his very own consolation prize.

*~*~*

They'd dozed on and off through the night once the woman had left—flashing away in a bright blinding light—too worn out from their own experiences throughout the day to keep their eyes open.

Being horribly tortured and nearly dead for part of the day would do that to you apparently.

Daniel stretched with his hands above his head and gazed around the room. Nothing had changed, much to his dismay, and Jack was still missing.

That little fact worried him more than he cared to admit.

Rolling to a sitting position, Daniel glanced at Sam before looking at his watch, checking the time. Five in the morning. Normally, he'd still be in bed, but even though he was exhausted, sleep was the farthest thing from his mind, his thoughts not permitting slumber except in small doses.

Sam's breathing was slow and steady, the Captain finally getting some much needed rest.

They hadn't even been here a day yet—missing less than twenty-four hours—yet it seemed like an eternity. The uncertainty, the worry, the torture, the pain—they'd had more than enough to fill several lifetimes so far and in the back of his mind, Daniel knew that there was still more to come.

Daniel sighed. There was always more.

"Worried?"

He turned his head, not surprised when he heard Sam's voice. "Did I wake you?"

She pushed herself upright, shaking her head. "No. Not exactly the most ideal sleeping conditions."

"To say the least." The silence grew between them, each concentrating on their own thoughts, fears, and worries.

"It's been hours longer than it was with either of us," Sam said, her voice quiet, barely reaching Daniel's ears.

He nodded. "I know. Doesn't bode well."

"They did plenty of damage in the short time they had me. I can't imagine..." Sam's voice trailed off as her mind filled in the details.

A flash of light caught their attention, turning them both to face their newest visitor: Kyran. He began speaking without preamble.

"It seems as if our tests are complete. Once I depart, the force field surrounding you will drop. You are free to leave if you can find your way to the surface."

Daniel rose to his feet, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Sam mirroring his action. "Where's Jack? We're not leaving without him."

"I believe you know where to find him. It will be up to you if you decide to waste what little time you have."

"Waste time?" Sam asked, taking several steps closer to the edge of the platform.

Kyran tilted his head, his icy blue eyes resting on Sam. "Yes. Did I forget to mention that detail? There are always other subjects we can find and use. Our research here has proved that there may be other worthy subjects in this galaxy. We have merely scraped the surface. If you can find a way out of our facility in five of your hours, you are free to go. If you don't, you will be used by us for further scientific study. You can think of this as another experiment, a test of your intelligence, or lack of it."

"You can't just experiment on people," Daniel said, his voice holding a trace of the indignation and disgust he felt.

The alien turned, focusing his attention on the archeologist. "And why not? Your Colonel tried to stop us and he discovered just how shortsighted he was."

"What did you do to him?" Sam's words were clipped, her clenched fists the only outward showing of her anger.

Kyran smiled, his thin lips stretching over the bones of his face, making the blue flesh even more transparent looking. "That's immaterial. I suggest you head for the surface. Use your time wisely for the countdown will begin immediately."

Even before Daniel could raise his hand to protect his eyes from the flash of light he knew was coming, Kyran was gone. Daniel blinked furiously, waiting several seconds for the afterglow to subside. He turned to Sam, trying to see her through his watering eyes.

"Where to?"

Sam's response was immediate. "We need to find the Colonel."

"The laboratory?"

She nodded. "We're going to have to double-time it if we want to have any hope of locating the Colonel and the path out of here within the five hour time limit. It took us more than two hours to find the laboratory in the first place and we still don't know where the exit is. We have a lot of ground to cover."

Daniel glanced around the darkened room one last time before focusing on his teammate. "So, what are we waiting for? Let's find Jack and get the hell out of here."

*~*~*

Raising his eyes to the horizon, Teal'c scanned the area surrounding the Stargate looking for any telltale signs of change from the night before.

General Hammond had been true to his words. Less than two hours after their conversation, he had been summoned to the General's office and upon arrival had been informed that he would be accompanying SG-3 to the planet to search for SG-1. While General Hammond had been apologetic about the SGC's limited resources, Teal'c understood. As First Prime of Apophis there had been many occasions when Teal'c had had to make decisions about deploying limited resources. Sometimes, you had to manage with the items with which you were provided.

In this case, Teal'c just hoped it was enough.

Shaking his head in an effort to get rid of his dark thoughts, Teal'c spotted Major Peterson and the rest of SG-3 several yards ahead, scouting the area, checking to make sure everything was clear. To Teal'c's eye, there had been no change—even the expectant air of the planet had not altered.

If only that was enough.

*~*~*

Jack coughed agony spreading through his chest and abdomen, the tendrils of the pain sneaking into his extremities. His wheezing was accompanied only by the hitching of his breath as the air lodged itself in his throat, scraping past the soreness that lay within.

The oozing had gotten worse, the drops falling at a steadier rate, trailing down his bare back, the red mixing with the beads of sweat that coated his body.

He only wanted a few simple things.

For the pain to end.

For his team to be safe.

And he prayed that they didn't come looking for him. If they somehow caught whatever he had…

He moaned, partly from the pain, partly from the thoughts running through his head. He knew his team, he knew what they'd do. Sooner or later they'd come for him and no matter when that happened, there was nothing he could do to stop them.

He could only hope and pray that it didn't happen to them.

His breath rattled in his chest, each exhalation becoming shallower, the very air around him getting too thick to breathe.

He was drifting already. Inch by inch his grip on this life was slipping.

And soon he would be gone, another quickly fading memory, another line in a record book.

*~*~*

Time was counting down, ticking away. Every passing moment meant one less they had to find their way home.

But they couldn't leave without their friend, without Jack. If one thing Jack managed to drill into Daniel's head, the "never leave anyone behind" motto was it. And he had every intention of sticking to it.

They'd left the room where they'd been imprisoned at a run, but it was difficult, retracing their steps, finding the right hallways, the right path back to the laboratory. They'd had to slow down to look for landmarks, to look for rooms and signs that they remembered. One wrong turn and they could end up on the wrong side of the facility. And that was the last thing they wanted to happen. There was too much at stake—something they didn't mention out loud but was hard to forget.

Apart from the pounding of their boots on the floor and their panting breaths, the hallways were quiet.

Too quiet.

The silence was eerie.

"Daniel, I think I see it," Sam said, her hushed voice loud, the words thrown over her shoulder as her feet brought her closer to their destination.

It looked just like every other corridor. How could she be so sure?

Daniel craned his neck to get a glimpse of what was up ahead, trying to remember exactly what had caught his attention the first time they'd come this way. The lighting had been unusual; he remembered that.

But now things were different. The gentle light that had hovered overhead, following their every step, had been replaced by an all-encompassing glare, the too-white light permeating every inch of the hallways, making things look shades different than before.

But as they strode forward, things began to look familiar. This was it. Sam was right. They'd found the laboratory.

Turning the final corner they entered the dimly lit room, searching for any sign of their friend. The shackles hung silently at the far end, empty and unmoving. The Tok'ra were still encased in their glass coffins, their faces permanently locked in pain and anguish, even the slumber of death not removing the evidence of the horrible deaths they had experienced.

The metal tables and machinery gleamed wherever the light touched it, giving off an air of cleanliness, of order, of purpose. Daniel knew, however, the truth behind that pretense, the disgusting practices that occurred here.

Threading their way through the maze of furniture and cabinetry, their eyes searched every corner, slowly and thoroughly checking to make sure they didn't miss a single inch.

Just under the shackles, however, there was a small metal table, a single light shining from overhead.

Daniel surged forward, recognizing the remains of the drab green BDUs adorning the unmoving figure, their once pristine appearance marked by darker patches, a color Daniel recognized but did not want to acknowledge.

He slowed as he approached, ever mindful of the force fields the Yalamanchi favored. He had no intention of doing anything that might delay their departure.

He must have cried out when he'd spotted Jack because Sam appeared at his side a few moments later, her strides matching his as they approached the table and their friend.

The closer they got, the more Daniel just wanted to turn and run, puking his guts out in some lonely corner, far away from the sight of his friend. What skin Daniel could see was tinged yellow and streaked with bruises and an angry rash. The trails of drying blood only emphasized the horror Jack had endured.

The abrupt appearance of a force shield however, quickly brought their forward movement to an end, sending them back a few paces to where they stood and stared. Was this why Kyran had laughed at the thought of them going to find Jack? Why he said it was a waste of time? There was no way they were going to get through the shield, but how could they just leave Jack here to die?

As it was, the man was still alive, if you could call it that, the wheezing of his breath the only indication of his continued existence. His knees were drawn up toward his chest and he clutched at his abdomen, the pain he endured radiating off of him in waves and etched into every line of his face.

"Oh, God," Sam said, her voice trailing off, her hand moving to cover her mouth.

Daniel couldn't agree more.

"He's still alive, Sam," Daniel said. "We have to do something."

She turned toward him, her blue eyes wide and filled with pain. "What can we do? I don't even know where to start." She gestured widely, the wave of her hand taking in the entire room and all of its equipment.

"But what choice do we have? We can't just leave. We have to try something, anything. We owe him that much at least."

Sam sighed, turning to glance around the room, her eyes searching for a place to start. One of these panels had to operate the shield, but which one?

It could take hours to find the right one. Hours they didn't have.

Daniel, though, found it hard to look anywhere else except at his friend who was lying on the other side of the force field.

Daniel didn't want to look but he couldn't turn away.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Sam move off, taking a closer look at some of the equipment and the panels, obviously trying to figure them out, trying to find something that could help them.

They needed a miracle.

*~*~*

Jack roused slightly, the pain running though his abdomen suddenly stabbing in its intensity.

He couldn't still be alive, could he?

But even as he rode out the agony, he knew there was something else that had caught his attention. A sound, or something.

No. It had been a voice. Two voices, talking quietly, but speaking in familiar tones.

When realization dawned, Jack's heart sank. Carter and Daniel were here—unless his mind had started playing tricks on him. It was possible.

Cranking open an eyelid barely a slit, the room swam into focus. His eye teared as the dim light hit, but he forced it to remain open. He had to know, he had to see.

He didn't like what he saw.

*~*~*

For the briefest of moments, Daniel swore that Jack was looking at him, the chocolate brown eyes gazing out across the distance.

Leaning forward, his body skimmed the edge of the force field, a tingling sensation racing along his skin.

He stepped back a few paces, shock flowing through his senses. Jack was conscious.

"Oh, God, Sam, Jack's…" Daniel trailed off as he tried to move in closer, the field rebuffing his attempts. "Jack, we're trying to get you out of there. We'll get you home and have Janet fix you up. You'll be as good as new."

Sam's sharp inhalation beside him was his only indication that the Captain had joined him. Even as she tried to school her face into an unfeeling mask, much in the same way that Jack would have, shock and pity alternated with disgust and empathy.

"Sir, we're working on trying to get the shield down. Then we'll get you right out."

"No…"

Jack's quiet words, filled with pain, barely reached their ears. Daniel turned to his friend, feeling his eyes widen. "What do you mean, no? We have to get you home. We just can't leave you here."

"No…go…"

A cough prevented Jack from continuing, his face screwing up in obvious agony.

"But Jack—" Daniel protested once Jack quieted down. In the back of his mind though, Daniel knew there was a distinct possibility that Jack would never go home again. Jack's next words just sealed his fate.

"Disease…virus…something contagious."

Daniel turned away, knowing the anger and pain was running across his own face. He listened as Sam's quiet words floated through the air.

"Are you sure, Sir?"

"Yes…last stage."

"Sir, I'm sure Janet can figure something out. We can take you home. We can make sure you're isolated. Decontaminate the corridors."

"Don't want to risk it…appreciate the gesture…go."

"Sir, we're willing to risk it. You'd do the same for us."

"No, Carter. Go."

"We can't just leave you here."

Daniel whirled around, anger in his voice. "You can't just give up, Jack."

A soft, pain-filled chuckle reached Daniel's ears, cooling whatever heat had arisen. "Not giving up. Just a realist. Go."

Even without the power normally behind that last word, Daniel knew an order when he heard it—even though he generally didn't listen.

But how could you argue with a dying man's last wish?

*~*~*

Glancing at Daniel standing beside her, anguish written in his face, tension permeating his body, Sam did the hardest thing possible: pulling her teammate away from a friend.

"Daniel, we have to go. We don't have much time."

He shrugged her off, moving a step closer, the force field sparking where his body made contact.

She closed her eyes, trying to dig up her conviction, her confidence. Most of it, however, was lying about ten feet away.

The Colonel's eyes met hers for an instant, a silent message passing between them along with a simple order, a simple request. Get the team home.

With that one glance, the Colonel passed the responsibility onto her, the weight settling heavily on her shoulders. She reached out once again, her hand snagging Daniel's arm. "We really have to go."

The archeologist nodded slowly, allowing himself to be pulled away, their downtrodden footfalls the only sound in the cavernous room as they slowly moved back to the entrance; ever cognizant of the friend they were leaving behind.

Sam wanted to vomit, just to get rid of the sickening feeling racking her body. She was supposed to fix things, find solutions. This was not how it was supposed to end.

*~*~*

In a daze, Daniel let Sam lead him toward the door and freedom. They had less than three hours to find an exit, less than three hours before they committed their friend to certain death.

Stopping in his tracks, Sam tried to tug him forward, but he refused to move, his feet steadfast.

"Daniel—" Sam said, turning around to try and urge him forward once again, but he shook his head.

"No, I'm not leaving."

"But the Colonel—"

"I know, Sam, but…but how can you just leave him like that?"

"You heard him, Daniel. Would you rather get a contagious, terminal disease on the oft-chance that we might be able to find a cure before he dies?" Her words, although harsh, held a ring of truth that Daniel couldn't deny. But, he couldn't do it. He couldn't leave.

"You go. I'm staying."

Sam sighed. "Daniel, you're probably writing your own death sentence and I should be dragging you out of the door instead of arguing with you."

"Why aren't you?" Daniel asked, his eyes narrowing at the Captain. When he wouldn't meet his gaze he knew. "You can't do it either can you?"

She walked a few steps away, her shoulders slumped, indecision in ever movement.

Daniel let her go, silently scanning the room around them, his eyes searching for anything that might help them.

The door sliding closed in front of them, however, wasn't part of their plan.

"Uh, Sam..." he said, pulling her attention back toward him. The Captain turned and he gestured to the now closed door, her widening eyes her only response. "It looks like the decision was made for us."

"But they said we'd have five hours. We still have time," Sam said, glancing at her watch, checking their countdown clock.

"You do indeed," came a voice from behind, spinning Daniel around, his eyes meeting the pale eyes of the female alien they'd spoken to before. The same one who'd healed them.

"I've turned off the monitoring devices in this room. I believe I can be of some assistance to you."

"Why are you helping us?" Sam asked, stepping forward, her hands on her hips, uncertainty and defiance in her stance.

"Because it is the right thing to do. Events should not have progressed as they have," the woman answered simply as she turned to walk toward the back of the room, to where their friend lay dying.

After several beats of silence Daniel turned, following the alien, Sam matching his strides as they walked abreast of each other, retracing their steps.

The force field sparked gently as the woman glided through it before settling back to its normal transparent state. She paced around the table, her eyes never leaving Jack's still form. She paused at the head of the table, her fingers brushing a few errant strands of hair from his forehead. As he stirred from his half-unconscious state, beginning to protest about her presence beside him, she leaned down close to his ear, whispering quiet words that stilled Jack's movements instantly.

She moved once again standing behind him, her hands slowly rolling Jack onto his back under a hail of muttered curses and hisses of pain. Daniel cringed as all of Jack came into view. The damage to his friend's body was worse than Daniel originally thought, not one inch of it untouched in one form or another.

Her touch on Jack's body held him down, even as he tried to curl back into the fetal position he'd been lying in, as if that position would contain the pain that he evidently was experiencing.

Taking a deep breath the woman stretched out her hands, moving one to the center of Jack's chest, the other she placed on his forehead, her fingers grazing against his skin before settling down. Closing her eyes, she bent her head and was silent.

The waiting was the worst.

Was it working? Would she heal him, could she?

Daniel found himself holding his breath, praying that it would be the miracle Jack needed. Narrowing his eyes, though, he realized that something had changed. The woman looked different. She'd turned a yellowish hue.

"Sam?" Daniel whispered, tearing his eyes away from the struggle going on before them. "Is she?"

Sam nodded, her own eyes wide. "Look at the Colonel. It's working."

Turning back, Daniel looked closer, realizing that they weren't imagining things. The tone of Jack's skin, while still bruised and covered in an angry rash, had shifted. But even as he watched, the dark spots began fading before their very eyes, Jack's skin slowly returning to a more normal—if somewhat pale—shade.

The woman, on the other hand, had changed dramatically. Where nearly transparent skin existed before, it was now covered with bruises and welts, a bright-red rash disappearing beneath her flowing white robes. But as quickly as it appeared, it too began to fade until it was gone once again.

Breathing deeper and with an audible swallow, she ducked her head again, intense concentration on her face.

As they watched, step-by-step Jack was healed, some injuries more evident than others. How long it took, Daniel did not know, nor did he care. When the alien finally stepped back, exhaustion lining every feature, she opened her eyes, her gaze resting briefly on both Sam and Daniel. Her eyes held a note of apology, sending a knife deep into Daniel's heart.

"I can go no further. The rest is up to him."

It had been too much. She wasn't able to complete the process.

A cry of despair welled up from within, but he held it back, refusing to believe. She had to have healed Jack. She'd healed everyone else, why not him?

The alien's trembling fingers fumbled at the device on her wrist before finally finding their goal, the force shield dropping with a silent flash.

Daniel nearly missed catching her as she crumpled.  


"I'm sorry…" she whispered as her eyes drifted closed. Daniel glanced up toward Sam as he cradled the feather-light alien in his arms.

"How's Jack?" Daniel asked urgently as Sam took stock of their friend's vitals.

"Unconscious," she replied, her hands hovering over Jack's half-naked body as if unsure where to check and what to do. A few beats later, however, her fingers found their way, resting against Jack's carotid artery, the Colonel stirring slightly under her touch. "His pulse seems good and strong," she reported, the military-minded Captain finally finding the detachment she needed. "It looks like she did a good job in healing him, but wasn't able to complete it."

"Jack was dying, Sam. She brought him back."

"I know, Daniel. But was it enough?"

*~*~*

He didn't hurt anymore.

That was a vast improvement to what he had been feeling before, but there was still something wrong, something off, something not quite right.

Jack could hear voices around him, two voices speaking in hushed tones.

He recognized those sounds, the underlying anxiety and concern.

Forcing his eyes to open, Jack turned his head toward the conversation, trying to get his blurry eyes to focus on his team. Daniel and Carter were standing a few paces away from where he was stretched out, their bodies stiff with tension. He couldn't make out the words, but from their movements he could tell that there was something wrong.

What was it?

He licked his lips, trying to moisten his parched mouth. He felt like he had been through a war or a multi-night binge—neither of which he personally had any desire to experience again. Taking a deep breath, he tried to summon the energy he needed to get their attention. He knew it wouldn't take much—one small peep and they'd be at his side. He just had to say something.

He tried something simple.

"Hey."

As he expected, two heads snapped around even before the single word left his mouth. Daniel was at his side seconds later, followed closely by a wide-eyed Captain.

"Jack!"

"Sir!"

Nearly stereo. Things must have been pretty bad. Although, from what he could recall, things had gone past bad and had veered into horrible some time ago.

He also remembered ordering them to leave—something that apparently hadn't happened. He swallowed again, trying to get some moisture into his throat. "Why are you still here?"

From the look of confusion and offense that ran across Daniel's face, he knew the short, clipped and barely audible question might not have been the most politically correct thing to say to two people he considered friends, but it was the best he could come up with.

"The alien…that woman healed you," Daniel responded, refusing to answer Jack's question directly.

Now that was a twist, Jack thought, his mind trying to go back, to filter through the confused jumble of memories. She'd been here before with Kyran and Nouri. She'd argued with them. He thought he remembered that, or had it been a dream?

"Healed?"

"Yes, Sir," Carter answered, her head swiveling to glance at something on the floor before turning back to him. "How are you feeling?"

It didn't take much thought to answer that particular question, but he was pleased to hear his voice regaining some strength. While it wasn't anything close to normal, it was better than nothing. "Like I got hit several times by a Mack truck. Why?"

"Well, we're on a deadline of sorts," she replied, her eyes moving to her watch instead of meeting his gaze.

"Deadline?"

Carter nodded, her head still down. "We had five hours to leave the facility according to the Yalamanchi."

"And?" he asked, not sure if he wanted to hear the rest. He had a bad feeling about it.

"They said we were free to go if we could find our way out. If not, we would be stuck here…no more than lab rats for the rest of our lives."

"So what's the problem?"

Carter took a deep breath before answering. "We have less than an hour to get out and we have no idea where to go."

Jack grimaced. He remembered how large the facility was—at least the parts they'd explored. Their only chance at freedom could be anywhere. It could take hours to find the exit. They were royally screwed.

*~*~*

A voice turned Daniel around immediately. He could feel his eyes widening as the alien woman struggled to rise to her feet.

"If you trust me once again, I can show you the path away from all of this."

Daniel moved instinctively, helping her up, holding her steady as she swayed, her thin frame seeming to be even more fragile than before. How did she expect to help them in her condition? She was barely able to walk, let alone guide them through the facility. Something on his face, however, must have given his thoughts away.

"I shall recover quickly enough. It is you who are running out of time and I do not believe you wish to remain in this place."

While Daniel couldn't argue with her, there was something off with this whole situation. Why was she helping them? First she'd healed all of them, bringing Jack back from the dead—or close enough—and now she was willing to show them the way home.

Sam, however, voiced his question before he could say anything.

"We appreciate all of your help, but why are you doing this?" Sam was leaning against the metal table on which Jack was lying, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes narrowed as she regarded the pale woman still swaying slightly as Daniel steadied her.

"We do not have time to pursue this line of questioning. Please, let me help you."

Catching Jack's eye, he raised his eyebrow, the silent question transmitting across the room. A single nod was his only answer.

Jack wanted to go, that much was certain, but would he be able to make it? The other man's unwavering gaze was the only answer Daniel was going to get. They were going home.

"Where do we have to go?"

*~*~*

Everything about this situation was wrong to Sam. While the woman had healed all of them, she was also one of the enemies. And, as far as Sam knew, the woman had doing nothing to stop the torture they'd all experienced. Why was she helping them now? There had to be some reason—some string attached. Why else would she lead them to freedom with Kyran and Nouri watching? It didn't make sense, but Sam didn't have much choice. She had no intention of becoming a lab rat for the rest of her life. One round of their experiments was enough.

So with her hand on the alien's elbow, steadying her when she stumbled, they maneuvered through the facility, the woman leading the way. Sam swore they had been down this corridor before. Everything looked the same to her eye. She just hoped that this woman wasn't leading them around in circles.

Daniel had his arm around the Colonel's waist, O'Neill's arm thrown over Daniel's shoulders. Without the archeologist's support, Sam doubted that the Colonel could have made it this far. He was still pale, an unhealthy shade of white—his skin a light grey hue—exhaustion lining his face, but he was moving, putting up a brave front as he stumbled every few steps.

Sam didn't like the sound of his breathing, but there wasn't anything that she could do about it now. Their best chance was Janet and there was only one way that they were going to manage that feat. They had to get out of here.

"How much further?" Sam asked, turning her attention back to the woman beside her.

"Not much more. This was the safest exit, but I admit it was not the closest. Your safety was my primary concern."

"Our safety?" Sam bit back a more caustic reply. Antagonizing their guide was not a bright move. "Look, I appreciate your concern, but we're running out of time."

"I know the timetable that has been established and we should arrive within the allotted period."

Sighing, Sam nodded her head, allowing the woman to lead them further into the half-light of yet another corridor.

Would they ever reach the surface?

*~*~*

Jack glanced up, narrowing his eyes as he tried to breathe and look at where they were going. He wasn't sure how much further he'd be able to last, but he was determined to hold on for as long as he could. He hated feeling this way, hated relying so much on someone else—especially for something he knew he did very well on his own. Right now, however, walking unassisted was a little more than he could handle.

They were slowing, the alien's steps turning them toward what looked like a blank wall. She trailed her hand along the surface and a few feet further down an opening appeared through which Jack could see the interior surface of a small room.

An alien version of an elevator?

The woman turned, her gaze meeting his, her head bending in a simple nod. Jack raised his eyebrow at her gesture, somehow feeling that she had answered his question, a question he had only voiced in his head. Before he could contemplate it further, the woman was speaking and he refocused his flagging energies on what she was saying.

"Once you enter the device will take you to the surface, allowing you to exit the facility. It will take several of your minutes to traverse the distance, so please be patient. I will make sure your journey is not interrupted."

Daniel peered inside, doubt clouding his features. "Are you sure this is the best way to go?"

"Yes," she nodded, her face even paler than before. "This part of the facility is not controlled from the main consoles. Instead, it has its own power system. It is the safest transportation I can offer."

"Good enough for me," Jack said, trying to nudge the other man forward. "How much time do we have, Carter?"

Glancing at her watch, she answered a few beats later. "Less than five minutes."

Jack nodded, pointing to the elevator entrance with his free hand. "Let's go." He raised an eyebrow when it looked like Carter was going to protest. While he didn't entirely trust this alien, she had healed them and had led them to an exit. Why kill them now? What would it serve?

Carter inclined her head, stepping into the elevator, while Daniel began shuffling forward. Jack helped as much as he could, but he was quickly running out of whatever energy reserves he'd built up. It was now or never.

Turning to face the corridor, Jack's gaze met the woman's and he offered a weak smile of thanks.

Her thin smile acknowledged his appreciation. Jack held her gaze for several moments, a sense of puzzlement settling on him. He shrugged off the uncomfortable feeling and let Daniel lead him deeper into the dark metal interior of the elevator. Her blue eyes were the last thing he saw of her as the doors silently slid shut, the car taking them to their final destination.

Leaning against the wall, Jack's shaking knees lowered him to the ground a little quicker than he anticipated, Daniel's hold on his arm the only thing preventing him from hitting the floor.

Sighing, he tilted his head back against the cold surface and he closed his eyes as his thoughts meandered, one single thing surfacing from the tempest.

'Let this be over.'

*~*~*

"Sir," Peterson said, glancing up from the device he held in his hand. He'd swiped Captain Carter's scientific gadget thinking it might help with their search. So far it had only confused him.

Major Warren turned to look at him, a questioning expression on his face. "What's wrong?"

"I'm not sure I'm reading this right or not, but I think I'm getting a new energy reading," Peterson replied. The Major strode over the few feet to his side, gazing down at the device. He pointed to the screen.

"What's this?"

"That's it, Sir. I'm not sure. I think it's a new energy reading. It appeared a few minutes ago."

"A few minutes ago?"

Peterson nodded. "I thought it was a glitch at first. We'd had a few spikes of energy this morning, but they'd all vanished as quickly as they came. This one seems to be real."

"Where is it coming from?"

Peterson waved the device around, his gaze switching from the screen to the area surrounding them. "I think," Peterson replied, his words hesitant as he tried to confirm his hypothesis. "I think it's coming from the monument."

"That big thing in the center of the city?"

Peterson nodded. "That would be the one."

Major Warren pushed the talk button on the radio, his orders going out to the entire search and rescue team. "SG-3 this is SG-3 niner. We've got an energy reading coming from the monument in the center of town. We need to check it out. What's your status?"

"Bosco here, Sir," came the immediate reply. "We're retracing SG-1's original path through the city. Teal'c is with me, along with Collins. We're only a few blocks from the monument."

"Good. Check it out. We're on our way. SG-3 niner out."

Warren met Peterson's gaze as they settled into a steady, but quick, pace. "Let's see if that doohickey is right."

*~*~*

If you weren't claustrophobic, this elevator could change that instantly. As someone who grew up in and around the Egyptian pyramids and their endless narrow tunnels, Daniel did not have a problem with small places.

This elevator car, however, was another story. The dark metal walls seemed to be closing in on him, folding inward. Daniel couldn't tell if they were moving or not, the normal feeling of an elevator noticeably absent. For all he knew they could be sitting in the same place. With no obvious controls on the inside of the car, they could all be trapped here, entombed within the facility, left to finally die once the air was gone.

It was a horrible thought and one that Daniel tried desperately to contain. There were other things to worry about.

Jack was slumped in the corner, his eyes closed, his head thrown back against the black metal wall. He could have been sleeping but knowing Jack he was just conserving his strength. As they'd walked, Daniel could feel him tiring, leaning more and more on him for support. He didn't mind, not in the least, but it just proved to Daniel all the more that his friend needed to rest, that he still wasn't at one hundred percent.

What did he expect from someone who had been nearly dead?

Daniel sighed, seeing Sam's head turn at the sound. He shook his head trying to ease her mind. He was just tired, exhausted actually, the events of the past day catching up with him. It seemed like months, more than just a single day of his life.

One thing was certain, however, they wouldn't be coming back to this planet anytime soon.

*~*~*

Rounding the corner at a run, Teal'c slid to a halt in front of the monument, yards ahead of the trailing Lieutenants. Nothing had changed from when they'd explored this section previously, but according to Major Warren the device Lieutenant Peterson carried indicated that something was different.

Striding forward, Teal'c circled the large stone obelisk, its shiny, dark surface reflecting his image as he examined it from all sides. He could hear the pounding steps of the approaching members of SG-3—some following behind him, others arriving from a different direction.

Its square base was nearly ten feet wide on each side, the vertical lines in its surface the only marking. It had been crafted years ago, but had not weathered as the rest of the city had. Instead, it seemed to rise from the ruins as if created and reconstructed from the very base elements of the destruction around him.

"Did you find anything?" Lieutenant Bosco asked as he ground to a halt, a cloud of dust accompanying him, Lieutenant Collins not far behind.

"I have not."

"What are you looking for?"

Teal'c turned to face the young Lieutenant, his eyebrow rising. "If I knew, I would not be looking."

Lieutenant Bosco's face reddened and he glanced away, his eyes looking anywhere except at the Jaffa. Teal'c continued his progress, his hands sliding across the stone's cold surface. Even the sides of the obelisk that stood in the sun refused to hold the heat, the stone obstinate in even the smallest detail.

The radio in his vest pocket squawking as it came to life, Major Warren's voice echoing across the dusty square. "Lieutenant Bosco, report. What's your status?"

Teal'c ignored the call, continuing his inspection of the monument, allowing the Lieutenant to respond, pushing the quiet muttering of Lieutenant Bosco to the background.

Major Warren's voice, though, broke through his concentration.

"Peterson says the energy levels are increasing and he's been able to narrow them down to the exact middle of the city. He thinks the readings are coming from the monument. We're coming up on your six, but it might be a good idea to give yourself some distance."

The young Lieutenant appeared at his elbow several beats later. "Sir, we are dropping back—"

"You may proceed to do as Major Warren requested. I, however, am remaining here."

"But—"

Teal'c turned a steely gaze on the Lieutenant. "Proceed to the coordinates Major Warren provided. I am going to continue my scrutiny of this object."

After a brief pause, the other man nodded, sliding away from the Jaffa, his boots barely raising a dust cloud.

The seams of the stone before him were not natural but manmade and of a much higher quality than anything he'd seen before, their very appearance nearly blending into the surface.

Major Warren's voice broke his concentration once again. "Teal'c, come in."

He closed his eyes briefly before toggling the button on his radio. "This is Teal'c."

"Lieutenant Bosco reports that you are remaining within the blast zone. I do not think that's wise."

"Blast zone? Do you anticipate an incendiary event occurring in this location?"

"There's energy building in the area."

"That does not necessarily indicate a destructive occurrence."

"Yes, but—"

"I will continue to gather information from this position. Please advise me when you have additional information to support your assertion."

Several minutes passed before Major Warren and Lieutenant Peterson finally joined his side, the older of the two looking aggravated, but holding his tongue. The Lieutenant was waving the device Captain Carter normally carried. Catching a glimpse of the screen, Teal'c noticed the energy levels of which Major Warren had spoke. They were indeed high, much more so than any he'd seen on a previous planet, and the source was this obelisk.

When the stone shuddered slightly under this hand, Teal'c stepped back several paces, his eyes scanning the surface. Something was happening. The nearest seam in the monument's surface had changed, a dim light beginning to shine along the length of the crease, ending several feet above their heads.

Without warning, the device in Lieutenant Peterson's hand began buzzing and chirping, the warning signals loud in the silence of the ruins. But even before Major Warren could order them to retreat, the seam expanded. The opening of a doorway before them was much more monumental, however, especially when the missing members of SG-1 stumbled out, shielding their eyes from the glare of the mid-day sun.

Teal'c rushed forward, offering his support to an obviously ailing O'Neill, allowing Daniel Jackson to receive a shoulder of his own in the form of Lieutenant Bosco. Captain Carter, while steady on her feet, looked drained, exhaustion lining her features.

Major Warren finally broke the stunned silence. "Where did you come from? Are you alright?"

Captain Carter nodded wearily, settling herself on a nearby stone where Teal'c had placed O'Neill, allowing him to lean against the half-wall of a collapsed building. "We'll be okay after we get some rest," she said, her eyes drifting toward the silent form of O'Neill. "We're going to need a decontamination team to meet us though."

"What?"

Daniel Jackson allowed Lieutenant Peterson to set him on the edge of a nearby stone. "We've been healed of whatever injuries we received, but they gave Jack some kind of a disease, a virus or something. He said it might be contagious, so we need to be extra careful. I think the woman healed him pretty thoroughly, but—"

"Healing? Virus? Where the hell have you been?"

O'Neill's deadpan reply ended any further questions. "Hell, Warren. That's exactly where we were."

*~*~*

Doctor Janet Frasier rushed to the Gate room, her bulky hazmat suit more a hindrance than an aid. They'd gotten the message from SG-3 that they'd found SG-1, but there was a problem. It looked like the Colonel might have contracted a very contagious and terminal disease—a disease for which he might have already received a cure.

She shook her head, trying to sort out her thoughts, but instead relying on her training to get her mind into place. She had a job to do.

The sight of the open wormhole greeted her as the second wave of travelers stepped through. Lieutenant Collins, the first one to exit, was standing at the base of the ramp watching as Teal'c helped a disheveled Colonel down the ramp. Lieutenant Peterson followed with Sam, while another double-slurp indicated the arrival of Lieutenant Bosco and Daniel. A few beats later, Major Warren followed, the gate shutting down behind him.

"Welcome back. SG-1 and SG-3," said General Hammond from his position in the control room. "We've cleared the hallways as you requested and will initiate decontamination procedures once Doctor Frasier escorts you to the infirmary. While we do not think you are infected, we are not taking any chances."

Warren nodded, allowing himself and his team to be surround by red-suited medical personnel. "We'll be fine, Sir. I know Doctor Frasier will take care of all of us." Turning, he shot Frasier a brief, but knowing look. "No needles for me, right Doc?"

She couldn't help but smile as she ushered the teams through the door. Until the tests cleared SG-1 and SG-3 they were going to end up seeing a lot of each other. Might as well grin and bear it.

*~*~*

General Hammond strode down the halls of the SGC, his passage through the empty corridors a frightening reminder of what he'd just witnessed. SG-1 had come home, but as possible carriers of a contagious disease. He'd ordered the halls cleared and the decontamination teams had already begun their work along the path the SG teams had taken to the infirmary. Until their work was complete, the base would stay silent, the SGC personnel ordered to remain at their posts until the all clear could be given.

For him, it was different. He needed more information and the only place to find it was in the infirmary isolation rooms.

He'd taken a different path than he normally would, avoiding the more direct route the SG teams had taken, his steps leading him past scientific offices and departments not often visited, the quiet hum of voices and equipment spilling into the hallways as the scientists continued to work, continued to make discoveries. The ideas that came out of this small stretch of hallway were enough to fill volumes and volumes of textbooks. Once the Stargate project was finally made public some of these scientists would be remembered for all time in the annals of history.

Sometimes Hammond was surprised that some of theses civilians would give up promising secular careers and fame to work on this project, their efforts possibly never to come into the public consciousness. While the SGC paid relatively well, many of the men and women could be much, much wealthier working on the outside. Instead, they chose to join the program and remain here. He'd never met one of these scientists who, once inside, decided to leave voluntarily. For them, the work and the discoveries was more than enough payment.

Rounding the last corner, he opened the door into the observation room, the glassed-in room overlooking the activity of the small room below. Doctor Frasier had set up eight beds as soon as SG-3 had called in with the particulars. The two teams would remain here until the Doctor could perform the tests she needed to clear them all.

They would all leave here eventually—either on their feet or on their back—but the SGC would be safe from infection.

Nurses swarmed around the room, their red hazmat suits making them seem other-worldly. While SG-3 were getting a quick check right now thanks to the four nurses in their section of the room, Doctor Frasier had focused her attention on SG-1 with a delegation of six nurses at her side.

Teal'c had finally taken a seat, allowing a single nurse to draw blood samples, but his eyes never left his teammates, watching as they were tended to. Captain Carter and Doctor Jackson had two nurses attending each of them, trying to convince them to lay back and let them do their work.

Colonel O'Neill at the far end of the room, normally the most vocal of the group, was strangely silent. When one of the nurses stepped away carrying several vials of blood Hammond saw why.

O'Neill was out cold.

Hammond had watched this synchronized dance before, the movements letting his mind process the little information he had, putting everything in the right compartment before deciding what questions needed to be asked to fill in the holes.

Bringing himself back to the present Hammond realized Doctor Jackson had spotted him in the observation room and offered a hopeful but worried smile. The archeologist returned it, but turned back to the drama at the end of the room where everyone else's eyes were focused.

Jackson must have said something because Doctor Frasier turned briefly from her patient glancing up to the observation desk and shaking her head, indicated that it would still be a while before she could brief him. Sighing, Hammond settled down on the nearest chair determined to wait until the Doctor was ready, however long it took.

*~*~*

Sam tried to see around the nurse, twisting her neck to get a better view of what was going on at the other end of the room. The beeping of several machines was annoying, each out of sync with the other. And it wasn't bad enough that Nurse Marie Miller kept getting in her way, but Nurse Anne Matthews who was trying unsuccessfully to get a blood sample from Daniel kept moving, blocking her line of sight.

She couldn't win.

Every now and then she'd grab a quick glimpse of the Colonel's pale face, but then her view was quickly cut off. She was about ready to scream if someone didn't tell her something soon. He'd insisted on walking, albeit with the help of Teal'c, down to the infirmary and he'd been fine until about ten steps from his destination when his legs had just given out from under him.

The Jaffa had caught him before he hit the floor, rushing ahead to place him on the far bed as Janet indicated, pushing forward to check his vitals.

Sam had heard a few mutterings coming from the Doctor before she was guided to her own bed and accosted by the nursing staff. No matter how much she argued that she was fine, they insisted on poking and prodding her.

But now, even after the majority of the initial panic had settled down, Sam was still finding it hard to get a straight answer—or any answer for that matter. Sighing, she allowed Marie to push her gently to lie back on the bed, the woman's smile a sharp contrast to her earlier vampire tendencies.

Daniel, positioned closer to the action, had been a little more cooperative with the staff, allowing them to filter in and out taking samples and muttering platitudes. His front row seat, however, did not give him much more information.

A red-suited figure stopped briefly at Daniel's bedside, speaking a few words before moving on to her. It took Sam several moments to realize who it was; the hazmat suits making everyone appear the same. It was Janet's light touch on her arm that completed the picture. Offering Sam a tired smile through the hazmat's faceplate, Janet gave her the news she wanted to hear. "The Colonel's sleeping. Once we get everyone's tests back we'll know more. Right now I need you to rest and let us do our jobs. You'll be out of here soon."

"Janet," Sam said, snagging her friend's hand as she went to move away, turning the Doctor back around to face her. "That alien healed him, but he…we didn't think he was going to make it."

Janet patted her arm, a smile still on her lips. "He looks okay, Sam. He's resting like you should be. I think he just overdid it. Don't worry, I'm going to make sure he's back to one hundred percent before letting him step one foot out of my infirmary—no matter how much he grouses and yells."

Sam chuckled, knowing the truth of the Doctor's words. Janet stepped away, pausing a few moments at Teal'c's side before exiting the isolation room. Sighing, Sam sank deeper into the infirmary mattress and closed her eyes, letting nearly two days of worry, pain, and exhaustion wash over her.

They were home. It was time to rest.

*~*~*

The three members of SG-1 slept for two days straight before finally stirring. The blood tests had come back clear on everyone—both SG-1 and SG-3 Janet had kicked Major Warren and his team out, leaving the slumbering SG-1 with its Jaffa guardian.

Her staff had been able to forego the hazmat suits once the results of the blood tests were confirmed. While the hazmat suits had been a necessity, something to protect them from a possible unknown and unidentified contagion, not being able to really feel her patients' skin left her without a very valuable tool to gage their health.

Yes, she had the most state-of-the-art equipment at her disposal, but there was something much more basic, much more natural about a real human touch.

Smiling to herself, Janet straightened the edge of the Colonel's blankets, smoothing out some of the wrinkles along the side of the bed before glancing up to the monitors at the head of the bed.

She wasn't expecting to see his hazy brown eyes looking at her.

"Colonel," she said, a little flustered since she had been taking her time during her rounds.

He smiled weakly at her, rolling his head to the side. "Hey Doc," he replied, his voice quiet.

"Hey, yourself." Moving closer, she reached to the small side table and poured a cup-full of water, sealing it with a lid, and stabbing a straw through the hole in the center before tilting it so he could slip a little of the liquid. Once he quenched his thirst, she sat the cup on the table, her hand immediately grasping his nearest wrist, her fingers poised perfectly over his pulse point. "How are you feeling, Sir? Any pain? Discomfort?"

He shook his head, his eyes glinting a little. "Nothing apart from the extra plumbing."

His pulse was strong and steady, his comments clearly showing he was completely cognizant of his surroundings. "Soon, Colonel."

"Daniel? Carter? Teal'c?"

"Sleeping at the moment. Teal'c is kel'no'reeming, but he's here too," she said, indicating the other figures in the dimly lit room with a quick glance. "You're all clear of whatever virus or contagion you mentioned to your team on the planet. I released SG-3 yesterday. Once you rest up, you'll all be free to go. I can't find anything wrong with you to keep you here."

"So, we can go?"

"Once you rest."

"Been resting."

Janet smiled as she watched the Colonel's eyes droop a little—and this time not from any of her usual concoctions. "And you're going to rest some more I think."

She patted his hand as he drifted off to sleep once again, moving to the next bed to make her observations, already sure in the knowledge that they were going to be all right.

*~*~*

Jack rubbed a hand over his neck as he strode though the SGC, his leather jacket thrown over his shoulder. He had one more stop to make before he could make the final trek home.

Tonight he just wanted to look at the Gate before he left the base—without an audience. The briefing this afternoon had been tough, in a way even more difficult than experiencing it firsthand. But, they'd all made it through and he'd seen both Daniel and Carter off hours ago, making sure they actually signed out and left the facility.

Hammond had given them a three-day weekend to recoup before starting fresh on Monday. There were a few missions scheduled for SG-1 and they'd get the chance to look them over before they headed out.

But that was next week.

Sneaking into a rarely-used stairwell, Jack eased himself down the two flights to level twenty-seven, his footfalls quiet in the empty halls. It was late, later than he intended on being, but he'd gotten sidetracked with paperwork and other small stuff. It was always the little things that tripped you up.

Shaking his head, he turned into the darkened briefing room, dropping his jacket on the table before moving to the window overlooking the embarkation room.

He wasn't sure how long he stood there, but he finally took a deep breath and released it slowly, letting the serenity of the room and the night settle on him.

A kind and quiet voice pulled him out of his reverie.

"You okay, Jack?"

He turned to the older man, offering a tired smile. "Yes, Sir. Just enjoying the view."

"You in a hurry?"

"No, Sir," Jack said, moving closer to the General, following the other man into the small office. "Something wrong?"

Hammond shook his head, a smile brightening his features. "No, nothing. Why don't you sit a while before you head out? Keep an old man company."

"I don't think you'll ever be considered old, George," Jack said, taking the offered seat, sighing as his tired muscles relaxed.

"Try to tell that to the grand-kids, Jack. I'm not as young as I used to be," he said, reaching down into a bottom drawer and pulling out two old fashioned glasses and a bottle of single-malt scotch. At Jack's raised eyebrow, Hammond continued. "After the briefing this afternoon I think we both could use a little something to help us unwind."

Jack didn't argue as Hammond poured two fingers of the liquid into the bottom of the glasses before putting the bottle away. He pushed one of the glasses forward as Jack reached to snag it with his hand. Both men leaned back, silence settling on the room as each man enjoyed the first swallow.

Curiosity got the better of him and Jack was the first to break the silence. "Were you expecting me?"

Hammond's mouth twitched in a half smile. "I knew you would surface sooner or later. It was a little bit later than I thought though."

Jack smiled into his glass. "I'm getting predictable?"

Hammond shrugged. "Whenever you have a tough day it's been noted that you tend to stop here on your way out. I figured tonight would be one of those nights."

"You could say that." Jack took another swallow of the scotch, letting it warm him on the inside. "It was a close one."

"But you got out and got your team home."

"With the help of an alien woman."

"Whatever works, Jack. You know that."

He nodded. "I know. It's just hard to believe that such an advanced race could be so…corrupt, so inhumane. They were centuries ahead of us with technology that Carter would have loved to drool over, but what they did…" Jack's voice trailed off, as his eyes focused on the wall behind Hammond's head, his mind still spinning, still processing everything that had happened. "That's one race I never want to have the pleasure of meeting again."

"And that planet's been locked out of the dialing computer. I don't think you'll have the opportunity."

"I don't know, Sir," Jack shrugged, gently settling the now empty glass on the edge of the wood desk. "The Yalamanchi weren't from that planet. They were just using some of the facilities the Ancients left behind. We might not have seen the last of them."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, Jack," Hammond said, rising to his feet. "But I think we have to get you home. I have a driver waiting topside for you. Another airman will follow with your truck so you have it for the weekend."

Jack stood, a smile on his lips. "Thank you, Sir."

"Don't mention it, Jack, and I mean that," Hammond laughed, his eyes drifting to the two old fashioned glasses on the desk. "And Jack?""

He paused in the doorway, turning to glance back at the General. "I heard about your bullying Doctor Jackson and Captain Carter out the door this afternoon. Make sure you get some rest too."

Jack's smile widened and he stepped back into the room, offering the General a sloppy salute. "Yes, Sir."

Hammond laughed, shooing him out of his office.

With a lightness in his step, Jack moved into the briefing room, picking up his jacket before heading to the elevator that would take him topside. It was time to go home.

*~*~* Fin *~*~*


End file.
